


Delicate

by Kalibear



Series: Stay, Go, Follow [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Healing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-28
Updated: 2015-08-20
Packaged: 2018-04-11 17:42:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 24,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4445699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalibear/pseuds/Kalibear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky has an unexpected realization and goes to Maggie for help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. When there's nothing to give

**Author's Note:**

> Set some time after Stay, Go, Follow. Yeah, the timeline for this series is going to be a little loose and wonky but that's what happens when an idea for a short fic blows up on you. 
> 
> Title and chapter titles are from Damien Rice's "Delicate":
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VnL3NfhOsBM

Bucky was actually whistling as he pushed opened the door to Maggie’s shop. The coffee shop had been playing a song he recognized; one he had liked enough to pay attention to the words. He may have first started the musical exploration as a way to stall on the dancing thing but he had underestimated how much just knowing the same song could connect you to people. News of his project had eventually made its way around the Tower and conversations had become just that little bit easier. And a surprising number of musicals and movies about dancing started making appearances at movie night. 

“James! Are those for us?”

“Yeah. I was picking one up for Stevie and I figured I’d grab a few extra. I got seven, that enough?” 

“That’s perfect. Thank you so much!” Maggie came around the counter and took the top tray. Part of Bucky wanted to argue, to say that he had it, that he could probably have balanced half dozen trays in the one hand. He and Steve had more than a few arguments lately about Steve’s need to help Bucky with everything. The frustration had started to make it tough to accept help from anyone. Luckily, it didn’t seem like Maggie noticed his hesitation as she kept speaking. “Stewart is out sick today which is why I’m on reception. Oh! You have to see the latest pictures of Steve. I swear, if the world ever stops needing to be saved, that man could have a good career as a model.”

“I thought you were tryin’ to keep the connection quiet? Pictures might make that tough.”

“We never show his face. No one would know it was him.” Maggie had placed the coffee on the desk and was flipping through a folder she had grabbed instead. “See?”

Bucky knew that the focus of the picture was supposed to be the delicate leaves and branches that started at the bottom right of Steve’s back and traced their way up to his left shoulder. But he couldn’t seem to pay attention to anything except how Steve’s jeans rode low on his hips and how his wrists were crossed at his bowed neck as his hands gripped his shirt to lift it out of the way. Maggie was right; no one would guess this was Captain America. But Bucky would have known it was Steve in an instant. 

“You are a lucky man, James.” Maggie said with a sigh.

“Yeah. Wait, what?” Bucky had to grab the edge of the coffee tray to keep from dropping everything. “No, no, we’re not- I mean, no, just friends. We’re not…that. I mean, it’s okay, it’s just not…us.”

“Shit. James, I’m sorry. I just assumed- Bad Maggie, no assuming. Look, I’m sorry, just forget it, okay?”

“Yeah, sure. No, um, it’s fine.” Bucky carefully put the coffee on the counter and just as carefully avoided looking at the picture in the still open file. “So, um, is Steve almost done?”

“No, not really.” Maggie looked even more apologetic, if that was possible. “Charlene is giving Travis a lesson on shading for greyscale tattoos and there’s been a lot of stopping and starting. I can let him know you’re here, though?”

“No, no, it’s okay. I’ll see him at home. Um, I’m gonna go.” 

“Wait, just a second.” Bucky turned back to see Maggie scribbling something on small piece of paper. “Here, James, it’s my number. Please take it. And call. If you ever want to talk or something. Okay? And again, I’m sorry.”

“Thanks. And yeah, don’t worry about it, Maggie. Kinda flatterin’, really, you thinkin’ I could land someone like Steve.” Bucky had been trying for flippant, for reassuring and knew he missed the mark when Maggie just looked a little sadder. “Okay, I’ll see you later.”

Bucky didn’t think it was a problem. Didn’t want it to be a problem. It had just been a simple misunderstanding, right? He tried to forget about it as Maggie suggested. Tried to stop seeing shoulders and waist and arms and eyes and smile and just see Steve again. Steve who he had protected, Steve who rescued him, who had saved him not once but over and over again. He tried to see his friend and kept seeing the beautiful man in the photo instead.

He became twitchy, hyperconscious of the space between he and Steve, of every casual touch, every friendly shoulder bump. He hated it. He hated the look on Steve’s face when he flinched, the concern in Sam’s eyes and the question on the faces of the others as he once again claimed one of the armchairs for movie night. 

A couple of weeks after his conversation with Maggie, it was Barton who finally cornered him in the communal kitchen. Literally. Barton dropped from a perch somewhere above the island to pin Bucky in the juncture between one of the huge fridges and the counter.

“What the fuck, Barton?” Bucky tried to move passed him but Clint brace his arms. “Not a good idea.”

“Okay, so, one, it should be a sign of how off you are that you didn’t notice me when you came in. And two, do you know how much work it was to move all that bubbly shit you and Steve like to drink down here so I could lure you out of your apartment? And three, are you getting slow in your old age because it should not have taken you this long to get here from your place. Seriously, I almost fell asleep up there and the last time I did that Tony got footage. He replaced my face with a sloth’s face and put it on YouTube. That shit has like a million hits. It’s awesome.”

Now Bucky liked Clint. When Bucky had first moved into the Tower, Clint had introduced himself by saying “Hi, I’m Hawkeye and I‘ve also killed while under the effects of brainwashing. Sucks, don’t it?” They didn’t really do the heart to heart thing; Bucky had Steve and Sam for the conversations on coping. Clint would usually just show up if Bucky wandered down to the communal lounge on nights he couldn’t sleep and they’d play the gory, violent shooting games that Steve didn’t really like. Clint understood that sometimes a guy just had to shoot shit. So Bucky liked Clint. Most of the time. And right now might be one of the times he doesn’t.

“Move.” Bucky growled.

“Nope.” Clint grinned.

“Move or I move you.”

“You gonna tell me what’s got your panties in a knot?”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re regressing and Steve has sad puppy dog eyes again. None of us like it when Steve has sad puppy dog eyes so sort your shit out or it’ll be Natasha who finds you next.” With that, Clint moved to the side and let Bucky push past him. 

Bucky had almost made his escape when Clint called his name. He didn’t turn but he did stop.

“Talk to someone. And if it can’t be Steve or Sam, remember that you do have other friends. Even if you’re an asshole who sucks at Halo.”

Bucky didn’t reply but he did give Barton the finger as he walked out of the room.

Now he knew that Clint had a point. He should talk to someone. Hell, he wanted to talk to someone. Part of him remembered how horrible it was to be a thing, to be so alone, to be talked about and not talked to except to be given orders and even on the days when he can’t find his words, there is comfort in being around people who talk to him anyway, who include him with eye contact and gestures and all those other little things that remind him that he’s not just the asset anymore. The problem was that everyone he usually talked to was a teammate of Captain America. And he wanted to talk about Steve. Now, yeah, it had been a while and the team knew the difference, could see behind the shield to see the man but they all still had good reasons to protect the shield.

Bucky had been sitting on his bed. Had rushed right by Steve in their lounge with barely a wave to sit curled up in the corner where he could see both the door and the window at the same time. He hadn’t missed that Steve had been about to say something before his face fell and he just returned the wave. He was hurting Steve and he had to fix that. In a flash he was off his bed and rummaging around on his desk. When he didn’t find what he wanted there, he went through all his pockets, leaving a mess of clothes in the closet. He stopped, took a breath and switched modes, accessing skills and training that he liked to forget he knew. It proved useless, though; even a thorough search had failed to produce the one small piece of paper he was looking for. Fuck.

“Uh, Stevie?” Bucky hovered in the doorway to the living room. Steve had some files on the coffee table but he had been just staring into space when Bucky got there.

“Bucky! Hey, what’s up?” And the tired hope on Steve’s face was horrible to see because it had been months since he had last seen that look and he had really, really never wanted to see it again.

“So, um, a few weeks ago Maggie, you know, tattoo Maggie?” Because they both knew so many Maggies. Fuck. “Yeah, uh, she gave me her number but I kinda lost the paper and I was wonderin’ if you could give it to me? She said I could call. If I wanted.” 

“Um, yeah, sure. Lemme just get my phone.” Steve tossed aside a folder or two to find his phone. Once he found it, he started fiddling with the screen. “So you thinking of getting some ink, Buck?”

“No, I’m gonna ask her to lunch.” Bucky had his head down, looking at the message that came in, so he didn’t see Steve’s expression

“Oh. OH. Yeah, that’s great.” 

“Uh, it’s okay by you, right?” 

“No. I mean, yes, of course it’s okay. I’m glad for you, Buck. This is great. Maggie is great. I’m sure lunch will be-“

“Great?”

“Yeah.” Steve gave himself a little shake and smiled at Bucky. “You should take her to that café, the one with the sandwiches? I’m sure she’ll like it.”

“Yeah, good idea. Um, thanks, Stevie.” Bucky waved his phone with Maggie’s contact info on screen.

“No problem, Buck.” Steve had on his Captain America face; the face that said that he would Do Good At Any Cost but Bucky was too frazzled to try to figure out why. He retreated to his room and tried to figure out what to say to Maggie.

It took a few scribbled notes and a question to JARVIS about proper etiquette for the 21st century but an hour later, Bucky had made the call and arranged to have lunch with Maggie later that week.

 

Bucky blamed stress for not thinking about how this lunch could appear to the others. Until he walked out of the bathroom and found two new outfits on his bed, one labeled ‘just friends’ and the other ‘something more’ in Natasha’s neat, precise handwriting, he hadn’t considered that they would think it was a date. It was lunch, not dinner, he hadn’t made reservations, hadn’t bought flowers and obviously he was a dumbass for forgetting that things had changed a lot. Fuck. 

“JARVIS, didn’t we talk about not lettin’ anyone in without permission unless it was an emergency?”

“Pardon me, James, given your apparent inability to decide on proper attire prior to your shower, I thought it prudent to allow Agent Romanoff entry.”

“Don’t try that with me. We both know you let her do whatever she wants. Someday I’m gonna find out what hold she has over you, JARVIS.”

“I highly doubt it, James, but you are welcome to try.”

Bucky thought about not wearing either outfit, just to spite Natasha but he knew he was already stressed enough about this lunch and it would save him time and energy. “Are you gonna tell her which one I pick? And ain’t it a little, uh, sexist, her dressin’ me?”

“Sir and Agent Barton also sent a few suggestions but they were intercepted by Agent Romanoff. Regarding your choice, she left no instructions to inform her so I believe she likely has her own means of knowing.”

“As always.” Having come from Natasha, the black jeans and stripped sweater fit perfectly. He wasn’t surprised to find a pair of his boots sitting on the floor by the bed and his leather jacket hanging on the back of his door. He had left both in the small entryway of the apartment but apparently Natasha didn’t want to leave anything to chance. 

Steve wasn’t in the apartment when he left. A quick check with JARVIS gave his location as the gym. And apparently almost everyone else was conveniently in or near the main lobby. Bucky bypassed the main elevators and left the Tower via a maintenance door. 

Maggie warned him via text that she was running late. It worked out well, though, because while the place was packed when he arrived, most of the tables were just finishing up. He actually managed to secure his favourite table, the one with clear sight lines and easy access to an alternate exit through the kitchen, just a few minutes before Maggie arrived. He stood as she made her way to the table. 

“Hey, sorry I’m late. Indecisive client. Did you order?” Maggie accepted his help with her coat and smiled as he carefully laid it on the empty seat beside him.

“No, it was, uh, good timing. The place was busy; I just got the table.” Bucky passed Maggie a menu and tried to think of some small talk. “Have you been here before? They have great sandwiches.”

“Yeah, we sometimes send someone over here to grab stuff for the shop. It’s so great to get lunch out, though! I was ready to kill that last guy.” 

The waiter interrupted Maggie’s story but after they ordered, she filled him in on the goings on in the shop that morning as well as a few other amusing anecdotes. She kept the conversation flowing and Bucky was reasonably relaxed by the time he was halfway through his sandwich.

“So, James, it’s lovely to see you outside the shop but was there something you wanted to talk about?” That was when Bucky realized that Maggie had been consciously directing the conversation so that he would relax. He couldn’t help but be impressed. Well, impressed with her. He was a little disappointed with himself for not noticing earlier. Barton was right. He was slipping. “Or am I assuming again?”

“No, no you’re not. And it’s kinda about that assumption you made.”

“Oh. Did something happen?”

Bucky shook his head. He watched his fingers as they turned a napkin into confetti. 

“Do you want something to happen?”

Bucky kept his head down but he looked up to gauge Maggie’s reaction as he answered. “Maybe?”

Maggie took a sip of her water before answering. “You know that it’s okay now, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you okay with it for yourself?”

“Whaddya mean?”

“Well, uh, sometimes we can be fine with stuff happening for or to other people that we’re not okay with for ourselves for lots of reasons. So…like…oh! My brother and sister both have kids and I love them. Love them dearly, spoil them rotten, no desire to have kids of my own. It took me a while and some therapy to know that I was okay with that feeling. This isn’t exactly the same but does that make sense?”

“So you’re asking if I’m okay with, uh, being sweet on another guy?”

“I guess I am. And I’m happy to talk about this with you but are you sure this isn’t a conversation to have with someone else? You don’t really know me that well.”

“Yeah, I guess not. I’m, uh, sorry. Thanks for lunch, Maggie. I’ll get the bill.” Bucky reached for his coat and was set to run, already mentally berating himself for dumping this all on her when he felt the hand on his arm.

“James, stop, please. I’m not telling you to go. And I’m not saying that I won’t talk about this with you. I’m just not sure I understand why you came to me.”

Bucky did stop. He sat back down and took a few deep breaths, trying to find the words. Maggie didn’t rush him. She signalled the waiter for a refill on their coffees and took another bite of her sandwich, nothing in her body language saying that she wanted to leave and Bucky felt something unclench within him. “The others-“ He cleared his throat, took a sip of water and started again. “The others, at the-“ he gestured in the direction of the Tower, “they, uh, all know him as he is now. And for a while, that was all I knew, too. And then I started remembering more from, uh, before. Stevie tell you any of that?”

Maggie took her time answering, appearing to choose her words carefully. “People get tattoos for all sorts of reasons. And everyone reacts to the pain differently. For some people, it can let down certain barriers. So yeah, there was a time when Steve told me a bit about the friend he lost. And I noticed a change in him when you started coming by. A good change. So I may have filled in some blanks.”

“Yeah, your background check musta been squeaky clean for the team to let Steve go back to the shop.”

“Well, we also had an absolutely terrifying lecture on discretion. I think Stewart still has nightmares.”

“Natasha?” Bucky smiled a little.

“Yes. She was very thorough. Very, very thorough.”

“Yeah, that’s her. She likes Steve. They all like Steve.”

“But?”

“But they all, um, work together as well. So they sometimes confuse Steve with Ca-ah, work Steve. Sam…Sam sees the difference but talkin’ to him might be little awkward.”

“Awkward?”

“Yeah. Sam’s been helping with all the other stuff. And this feels like it’s not a part of that. I don’t want it to be a part of that.”

“Okay, that makes sense. And I’m really glad that you trusted me enough.”

“Well, I trust Steve. And he trusts you. So…” Bucky smiled as Maggie remembered their earlier conversation.

“Do you practice being charming or does it just come naturally?”

“Came naturally, once upon a time. Have to work at it now but glad to see that it still works.” The smile became a grin.

“Oh, it works all right. But we’re not talking about that right now. So what is it from before that complicates things now?”

“You’ve seen the pictures of him? From before, I mean?”

“Yeah, there’s not many but it’s a big part of the story.”

“Well, a lotta people useta make assumptions about Stevie, based on how he looked.”

“People thought he might be gay?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, I don’t want to go and assume anything.” Maggie paused and Bucky chuckled a little. “And neither of us would want to spill any secrets but based on how vocal Steve is about LGBTA rights, I’ve inferred that he might have a personal interest in the cause. Would that be fair to say?”

“Steve loves people, you know? Like, he’s the last one to think that it’s all about how someone looks. Or if they’re a fella or a dame.”

“So you knew back then that he liked men?”

“Well, not men in general really. More like man. Specific.”

“Oh. And I’m guessing you, uh, didn’t talk to him about it?”

“I just couldn’t, you know? I couldn’t give him another reason to fight. He was such a little guy and it was just easier to find a couple of girls and make it a night. And if I was with the guys and someone said something about him, I’d always ask if it looked like I’d hang out with a queer and that used to shut’em up. But I knew. I knew even then.”

“But you didn’t share those feelings?”

“I’m not as good a man as Steve. Turns out the, uh, package sorta matters to me.”

“James, if you’re not attracted to men, there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Yeah, that’s not quite what I meant. I, uh, wasn’t attracted to Steve…then. As he was.”

“Oh. But now?”

“Yeah. Apparently.”

“But during the- Before you-“ Maggie took a deep breath. “There was a couple of years when he was how he is now and you were together. Wasn’t there?”

“Yeah but he had Peggy.”

“Peggy? Oh, Peggy Ca- Of course.”

“And well, really, I was a little messed up from uh, being where Steve found me. Not as messed up as I am now but you know, a little more interested in hittin’ back then in cuddlin’ up with someone. Fact is this is the first time I’ve felt like this in a while. It’s kinda-“ Bucky stopped, not sure how to summarize the turmoil inside.

“Scary?”

“Yeah, that’d be one word for it. Sam’s always after me to use my feelin’ words. Lemme see, yeah, scared would work. And confused. Guilty.”

“Guilty?”

“Like I said, it seems the package kinda matters. Isn’t that a pretty shitty thing to think? Especially when he’s done so fucking much for me. Oh, sorry about the language.”

“James, I repeatedly poke people with needles for a living. I doubt there’s much you could say that I haven’t heard. And maybe you’re being too hard on yourself.”

“You been talkin’ to Sam or Steve? ‘Cause I’ve heard that before.”

“No, just listen for a second. You’re making this all about protecting Steve. What about you?”

“Whaddya mean?”

“James, what you went through- and how you’ve recovered. It’s amazing. To even think of trusting someone again, to be intimate with someone-” Maggie took a drink. “Look, this isn’t anything like what happened with you but when I was younger, I got involved with someone who turned out to not be very nice. And it took me years to think about being in a relationship again. Trauma…trauma can change how you see relationships; can change what you need to be intimate with someone, what you need to be attracted to them. Maybe it’s not that Steve changed physically, maybe it’s that you’ve changed emotionally. Um, you don’t have to answer but have you, um, checked that it’s just Steve?”

Bucky blushed a little. “I, uh, kinda did some research. And I know what I like to look at but uh, there isn’t- Fuck me, this is embarrassing. There’s not the same reaction.” Bucky finished in a rush.

“Okay.” He could see that Maggie was trying not to smile, whether at his awkwardness or the situation in general but either way, he couldn’t blame her. And watching her struggle set something off in him and he was laughing before he knew it. Maggie joined in. 

“Fuck, I feel like I’m twelve again!” Bucky rest his elbows on the table and rested his forehead on the heels of his hands.

“Twelve?!”

“Yeah, kinda grew up fast. Man, what I would have done with the Internet back then!” The grin he gave Maggie was on the devilish side of mischievous. 

“Okay, speaking of the Internet, I’ll send you a few links, places where you can find some good information about sexuality and stuff. I gotta head back to work in about ten minutes but you can text or call anytime you want, if you have questions or just want to talk. I mean, if I’m working, I might not be able to respond right away but-“

Bucky stopped Maggie’s ramble by placing his hand on her arm. “Maggie, thank you. Just this has helped a lot, you know? I, uh, really appreciate it.”

“James, I am glad to help. And I’m sorry if this sounds condescending but I’m proud of you, okay? After what happened, to trust someone again, that’s miraculous. You are so goddamn strong and I don’t want you to forget it.”

Bucky was surprised when his throat clenched, when his eyes felt misty. He looked away, cleared his throat, took a drink and a deep breath before he answered. “No, uh, that’s, um, nice to hear. The trust thing, though, to be honest, with Steve it’s like part a’ me never stopped. You know?”

“Yeah, I know.” Maggie’s smile went from gentle to impish. “Who said I was talking about Steve, though?” 

The wink she gave him wasn’t what shocked him. She was right. He did now have other people he trusted. Maybe not to the same extent as Steve but here he was, outside the Tower, with a non-Avenger and he was feeling…normal. Relaxed, happy even. And yeah, he still had on the tracker from Tony and if asked, he could probably close his eyes and describe the location and threat level of everyone in the café but that was like familiar background music, unless it changed, it wasn’t his focus.

“Anyway, I have to run. I’m sorry. I wish I could stay longer but we can definitely do this again, okay?”

“Yeah, that would be good. Thanks, Maggie.” Bucky stood and helped Maggie with her coat. He stood for a moment, awkwardly, while she adjusted her purse, unsure of what he wanted until the words came out. “Um, can I have a hug? It’s just been weird with Steve lately and I didn’t realize how much I missed-“ Maggie didn’t let him finish before putting her arms around him.

She held him lightly at first. Then, when he shuffled a little closer and rested his head on her shoulder, bending his neck at an odd angle, she tightened her hold and held him closer until with a small shiver, he let out the breath he was holding and relaxed. For a moment, the rest of the world died away and Bucky just closed his eyes and enjoyed feeling close, warm, safe. Maggie held him until with another deep breath he loosened his grip on her and leaned back. “Thank you.”

Still holding on, Maggie stretched up and lightly kissed his cheek. “Any time, honey.”

Bucky stepped back and Maggie turned to go. “Uh, Maggie?”

“Yeah?”

“That someone that hurt you. They still a problem?”

Maggie grinned. “Thank you for the implicit offer but they are not relevant to my life anymore. Besides, Agent Romanoff already offered.”

“Okay, just checkin’.”

“Bye, James.”

Bucky gathered up his own jacket, paid the bill and took the long way back to the Tower, whistling along to the song in his head.


	2. How can we ask for more?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, this is definitely going to be longer than two chapters. I'm most of the way through chapter 3 now but I'm going to stick with posting weekly. 
> 
> TW: ableist language. Bucky refers to himself as 'crazy' a few times in this chapter. It's not used against him by anyone else but it's how he collectively sees his issues.

“Hey Stevie, didja get that email from Maggie? About the party?”

“What? Oh, hey Buck. Yeah, I got it.”

“What’s ‘come as you aren’t’ supposta mean?” Bucky vaulted over the back of the couch, StarkPad in one hand, to land next to Steve. He tilted the tablet to show Steve the line he meant. “See?”

“What don’t you ask Maggie?” Steve’s voice was tight.

“I’m askin’ you.”

“Well, I don’t know.”

“Okay then. Whatcha watchin’?” Bucky gently tossed the tablet on top of the pile of files on the coffee table. As he leaned back and put his feet up next to it, his shoulder brushed Steve’s. 

“Ah, I’m not sure. I just had it on.” Steve leaned forward, away from the contact.

“Then you don’t mind if I change the channel. JARVIS, can-“

“No. Stop. Leave it, JARVIS. Bucky, I’m tryin’ to get some work done.”

“Yeah, TV on, starin’ inta space. Definitely looks like work.” 

“How’d you even know what work looks like anymore?”

“Ain’t it you that keeps tellin’ me recovery is my job? Jesus, Steve, I’d help if you let me.”

“It’s not just up to me, Bucky. Look, I gotta get this done. Go bother someone else if you’re bored.”

“Maybe I will.”

“Well, good.”

“Fine.” Bucky stood, ready to storm off. This hadn’t been the first time Steve had blown him off in the last week and he was getting fucking sick of it. Then he saw the tight line of Steve’s jaw, his crossed arms and tense shoulders and all the fight goes out of him. “Fuck, Steve, what’s wrong? You’ve been weird since I started spending time with Maggie. I thought you wanted me to meet other people.”

“I’ve been weird? What was up with you before that? One day everything’s okay and the next you won’t talk to me, will barely even look at me.” Steve erupts from the couch and meets Bucky’s eyes. “And you’re not talkin’ to Sam or anyone. And it’s weeks of what it was…what it was like before. Then you come home from lunch, actin’ like it never happened ‘cept now it’s like Maggie’s your new best friend. And I don’t know what I did wrong.”

“Aw, fuck. Stevie.” Bucky sits back down, head in his hands. He shoulda known Steve would think it was all his fault. Goddamn martyr. He was trying so hard to keep this his problem, to sort out his own feelings, to not bring Steve into it all and he didn’t realize that he had sorta shut him out of everything. “Fuck. Stevie, you didn’t do anything. I just have some shit to sort out.”

“And I can’t help?” Steve sits as well but further back on the couch, facing Bucky but not touching him.

All Bucky could managed was “No. Not with this.” How could he tell Steve that after all he did, he wanted more? Wanted more time, more touches, more Steve. Wanted to matter more to him, to have more of him, wanted to give Steve every bit of his pathetic self, knowing how meagre the offering was. He just wasn’t there, didn’t think he was ready, didn’t have the words. 

“And Maggie can?”

“Yeah.” 

“Okay. Just…you’d tell me, right? If there was somethin’ I could do?” 

Bucky took a deep breath. He knew he had to tell Steve something, something so he wouldn’t worry so much, wouldn’t look so closely at Bucky’s odd behaviour. “It’s a sex thing.” It came out all at once and Bucky was glad that he was already looking at the floor because he didn’t think he could look at Steve right now. Or at all. Ever. Again.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“So, um, you and Maggie-”

“Talking. Just…talk. And Internet links.”

“Yeah. It’s, uh, good to have links. Searches…”

“Yeah. Lotsa weird stuff.”

“Very weird stuff.” 

“So much weird stuff.“

“Yeah.” Steve shifted closer. “So, uh, we’re good?”

Bucky looked up and met Steve’s eyes. “Yeah, Stevie, we’re good. Try not ta worry ‘bout me so much, okay?”

“No promises, Buck.” Steve smiled a little and the light of the window shone through his hair and made it a richer gold and Bucky’s mouth dried. 

“Okay, well.” Bucky scrambles for something to do, spots his tablet and grabs it. He waves it like it’s an answer. “I’m just gonna ask Maggie about the party thing. Um, were you gonna go?”

“Uh, no, but if, um, you are- uh, I could, if you wanted me- if you wanted company. If you wanted company, I can go with you. Not with you, with you but uh, if not, uh, it’s not like I don’t have stuff here.”

“No, um, no, company, company would be good. ‘Cause it’ll probably be loud and the people thing. Yeah, company. And Maggie would love to have you. There. I think. Yeah, you should go.”

“Okay, if- if you’re sure, you can, uh, tell her that I’ll be there. Well, I’ll try. You know, bad guys and stuff.”

“Yeah, those assholes never let us have any fun.”

“Yeah. Fuckers.”

“Fuck, Cap, language! What would Fox say?”

“Fuck Fox.” Bucky easily dodged the pillow Steve threw at him and was laughing as he went back to his room to call Maggie.

 

So apparently a ‘come as you aren’t party’ was just a fancy way to say that it was a dress-up party. And it might be a birthday party but it wasn’t the type you where got a gift for somebody. Which was great because Bucky had no idea what kind of gift he’d get Maggie.

“It’s just too hard now for all of us to celebrate every individual birthday together so we pick a night every year and celebrate everybody’s. It started pretty small and then Giselle and Malcolm bought the bar. You’ll still have to pay for drinks but now it’s invite only and the rest of us chip in to pay for the DJ and a giant cake. I’m really glad that you’re thinking of coming.”

“Yeah, well, that might depend on Steve.”

“Oh! You’ve talked to him?”

“Well, yeah-no, not like that. It’s just, I, uh, would feel better if he was there. Just in case it’s too much.”

“James, if you need to have a whole entourage to feel safe, go right ahead. It’s not a huge bar but it can handle a few more people.”

And that’s how Natasha and Sam were invited. Bucky told Clint he was absolutely not welcome at all so they both knew that he would definitely show. Ms. Potts assured Bucky that she would keep Stark busy that night but he wasn’t surprised when a card turned up at the apartment wishing him a ‘Happy 98 years of pissing people off’ and offering to cover the booze, the DJ and the cake in exchange for photos of Steve in a costume. Bucky was not about to ask why. Bruce declined, to no one’s surprised, but seemed pleased to be asked. Jane had a conference that night and Thor had elected to go with her, also to no one’s surprise; apparently nothing was more enchanting than watching Jane talk science. And Steve. Things were better with Steve but he wouldn’t commit to the party, kept insisting that it depended on if he was needed or not.

“You mean if Captain America is needed.”

“Yeah, it’s kinda the same thing.”

“Not really. I mean, I’d like Steve there with me, not Cap.”

“I’ll try, Buck. I don’t get why this is so important to you but I’ll try.”

“You know about the costume thing, right?”

“Yes, you told me. And I know, I know, I can’t just come in my uniform but I’m tellin’ ya, it’d be the perfect disguise.”

“No.”

“Fine.”

“And no takin’ advice from Barton or Stark.”

“How stupid do you think I am?”

“Uh-“

“Don’t answer. Fine. I will be there, in costume, if I’m free.”

 

It was Sam who suggested that Bucky check the place out first. Maggie called ahead and arranged for him to meet her friend Malcolm one afternoon about a week before the party. She wasn’t available so the plan had been for Sam to come with him but then the team got called away at the last minute. Bucky was shocked when he had a call from Ms. Potts offering to come with him. 

“I, uh, appreciate the offer, Ms. Potts but I’m sure you have better things to do than to check out some bar with me.”

“First of all, James, how many times have I said to call me Pepper?”

“Eighty-seven, ma’am.”

“And how many is it going to take?”

“Definitely more, ma’am.”

Pepper sighed but Bucky could hear the smile in her voice. He’d never tell her but something about her terrifying competence reminded him of Steve’s ma and he could never, ever imagine calling Mrs. Rogers by her given name. “Secondly, I’m not just checking out some bar. I’m investigating where few thousand dollars of Tony’s money is going. This is insurance.”

“Yes, ma’am”

“And lastly, I heard this was a costume party and you don’t have a costume yet.”

Bucky signed. “Natasha?”

“Clint, actually.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t worry. We’re not going with any of his ideas. I’ve made some arrangements of my own. We’ll talk in the car. I’ll see you in an hour.” With that, Ms. Potts hung up and Bucky ran back to the apartment from the gym. He definitely had to shave now.

Once they got to the bar, he was grateful that it was Ms. Potts with him and not Sam. Having Sam along would have made this a part of his therapy; with Ms. Potts it seemed more like a matter of fact business thing. He was also glad that he had worn one of the new dress shirts he had found in his closet. It made the dark jeans, boots and leather jacket classy. At least he thought so and the little nod Pepper had given him indicated that he made the right call.

“Ms. Potts, it’s a delight to meet you. I am more than happy to show any friend of Maggie’s around and I am so curious as to how you and Maggie became friends, but I do want to be clear that Treehouse is not for sale.” Malcolm was a slender, dark skinned man. His suit fit well but after being around Tony for a while, Bucky could see that while it was tailored, it hadn’t been custom made. And yeah, Bucky felt weird being able to tell. 

“Oh, please call me Pepper.” With that and a smile, Bucky could see that she had Malcolm charmed. She glanced over at him and he shook his head, hoping she understood that if Maggie hadn’t named this friend, he was happy to stay in the background. Ms. Potts introduced him as her associate, James, and that was perfect for Bucky. “And I think there was a misunderstanding. Maggie and I share a mutual friend who will be attending your party and I’m here on their behalf today. Stark Industries is not currently interested in acquiring your establishment, as lovely as it is.”

“Well, oddly, part of me is slightly disappointed. I thought we might have popped up on your radar.”

“I’m beginning to think that we may be missing out. I love how you’ve used the space. Is this the original bar?”

Bucky could see why Stark gave control of the company to Ms. Potts. She took charge right from the start and soon the situation felt less like ‘Maggie’s crazy friend needs the place checked out’ and more ‘CEO Pepper Potts tours local business’. Bucky was free to trail behind and note sight lines and access points on his own. 

It was a snug little bar, probably could hold no more than 200 or so people but it was well laid out and had bars both upstairs and down as well as a full kitchen. Ms. Potts seemed to have anticipated what Bucky might want to know and mixed questions about general accessibility and fire escapes in with questions about staffing numbers and average revenues. After a thorough tour, they sat in one of the private areas upstairs, overlooking the dance floor and one of Malcolm’s servers brought a tray of coffee and a selection of appetizers from the lunch menu.

“Okay, I think I’ve covered just about all I need to know. Now, here comes the fun part.” Ms. Potts grinned and there was a dame Bucky could call Pepper. Well, maybe after a few drinks. And with permission. “Mr. Stark also considers this person a friend.” 

“You sure about that?” Bucky muttered and Ms. Potts barely paused, didn’t break eye contact with Malcolm but her heel unerringly found Bucky’s shin. He hid his chuckle behind a cough.

“And although he cannot attend, he would like to cover some expenses for your party. Both in appreciation for your time today and also to ensure the comfort and wellbeing of his friend.”

“That’s…unexpected. Um, you do know that this is just a silly party for a buncha people who knew each other in college? There’s really nothing special about it.”

“Malcolm, I’m sure you can imagine the…complications that come along with the lifestyle of Mr. Stark and his associates. This might be a silly party for you but for someone else, this might be just what they need to relax, to be themselves, to be anonymous while still in a safe environment. It’s a chance to have fun and that, for some people, is priceless.”

“I see.” Bucky thought that it was unlikely that Malcolm really understood but he was savvy enough to know that he would benefit from going along with this deal.

“Now, you mentioned that you usually keep your own staff on for the evening? Do you think that they would be willing to have a night off, with pay, if Mr. Stark covered the cost?”

It really wasn’t much of a negotiation, Malcolm mainly sat nodding mutely as Ms. Potts outlined that basically Tony Stark would personally pay for the whole party in exchange for bringing in his own staff, reserving this private area and having access to the emergency exit in the back office.

“Ah, Ms. Potts, sorry, Pepper, if this is someone, uh, well-known, I can’t guarantee that no-one will post something online. I mean, the core of us, yeah, I’d vouch for any one of them but we all get a number of invitations to give to whomever we want. I won’t even know the complete guest list until later this week.”

“No, it’s not a matter of fame.” Pepper glanced at Bucky and he nodded. “This friend has rather severe PTSD and mainly just needs a place away from the crowd and the ability to leave quickly, if they need to.” And just like that, Pepper made it simple, made it easy, made it sound like this request was no more difficult than accommodating an allergy to shrimp or something. 

“Oh. Well, we can definitely work with that. Maggie will know what to watch for? If this person needs any other assistance?”

“Yes. Maggie is well-informed although she isn’t aware of the…well, frankly, of the money Tony is throwing at this situation. He really is hopeless at birthdays.” And again, Bucky was in awe. Now, the money Tony was spending wasn’t because Bucky was crazy but because Tony didn’t know how to buy gifts. Ms. Potts had neatly deflected attention from Maggie’s friend and made the conversation about the eccentric billionaire. “I’m sure you can understand that we would like to keep this quiet. For everyone’s comfort.”

“Yes, of course. Um, can I offer you more coffee?”

“I’m afraid James and I have another appointment. Although you can bet that I will be back at some point for more of that chicken. It is divine!” 

Bucky would have sworn that he was paying attention but somehow cards were exchanged, preliminary arrangements were made and goodbyes were said before he knew it and he and Ms. Potts were back in the car. 

“Ms. Potts?”

“Yes, James?”

“I was just thinkin’ that if you get it in your head one day that you wanna rule the world, just give a fella a head’s up so he can get out of the way.”

“Thank you, James. You’re my favourite for a reason. Please remember that when we make our next stop. And don’t tell Tony I said you were my favourite; I don’t have time this week for him to try to convince me otherwise.”

“No, ma’am.” 

Ms. Potts’s idea of a costume was not something that would have occurred to Bucky but of course it was just right.

“Ms. Potts, Darryl will be happy to attend you. James, if you could please follow me, we’re just going to have to take a few measurements.”

Bucky froze. Go somewhere? With a stranger? And let them close? No, no, this was too much.

Pepper laughed. “Rene, you must be joking if you think I’m not going to oversee every part of this. I trust your taste, of course, but James is almost as bad as Tony. There is no way I am letting him out of my sight.”

Rene laughed and Bucky could breath again. He looked at Pepper who smiled warmly and he relaxed. Somewhat. He still wasn’t exactly comfortable with someone he didn’t know hovering around him and touching him but he could let Ms. Potts handle this. He followed her and Rene to the back area and watched as she settled into a plush chair in the corner. He actually watched her through the whole process, keeping himself grounded. She talked and laughed with Rene but Bucky could see that most of her attention was on him. And he wouldn’t admit it but he got a little choked up when he realized that she was concerned for him, not about him. She wasn’t watching to see if he was a danger; no, her focus was making him feel safe and comfortable.

Rene was quick and efficient and promised that he would have something ready for a fitting in four days. Bucky’s eyes nearly fell out of his head when he saw the price but Ms. Potts just swooped in, dropped a credit card and gave him a peck on the cheek. “Happy birthday, James.”

Bucky was too stunned to say anything until they were back in the car. “You know it’s not really my birthday, right? Not anywhere close.” 

“Let’s just say I’m getting caught up in the spirit of things. Say thank you, James.”

“Thank you, Ms. Potts. For everything.” Bucky reached over and lightly squeezed one of her hands. 

“It was my pleasure, James.” Pepper turned her hand and lightly interlaced her fingers with his. “Now, I have dinner reservations made or we can go home and heat up some of Clint’s leftover pasta. Which would you prefer?”

“You mind if we just head back? I don’t wanna to push my luck when our backup is away.”

“A night in sounds perfect.”

Ms. Potts made a few calls and Bucky leaned his head back, soothed by her voice and anchored by her hand in his.

A few hours later, they were both in more comfortable clothes and settled in the communal lounge with reheated pasta. Somewhat out of chivalry and mostly because he didn’t think he handle the decision right now, Bucky had let Ms. Potts- no, no, Pepper pick the movie. Right now, in jeans and an oversized sweater, she was definitely Pepper. He hadn’t been paying too much attention to the plot but near the end, something clicked.

“Wait, is this why Barton sometimes calls himself ‘Baby’ and runs at Steve and makes him lift him up?”

The movie paused at that moment. “Pardon me, Ms. Potts, James, I’ve just received a message from Sir. The mission is going well, there have been no injuries but he doubts they will be back before tomorrow evening. Also, when informed of your current entertainment, he requested that I delete Dirty Dancing from the media library completely. Apparently it gets unnerving when Agent Barton hums ‘Time of my Life’ on open comms during missions.”

“Ignore him, JARVIS. Just enact the Footloose protocol and we’ll be fine. I need to indulge my teenage self now and then.”

“Very well, Ms. Potts.”

“The Footloose protocol?” As with many things concerning Barton, Bucky was confused, amused and a little apprehensive about the answer.

“The team agreed to restrict the number of times Clint could watch it in a month, for our mental health and his physical safety. We can watch it tonight but you might not want to mention it around Bruce. And definitely don’t mention the new version to Clint.”

“New version?”

“Sorry, you’re on your own for that one. I love you, James but I’m not listening to Clint’s rant again. Let’s finish this, grab some icecream and then I’ll introduce you to Footloose.”

“Sounds good.”

 

The movies were a good distraction but Bucky still didn’t sleep well with Steve gone. It wasn’t only the mission; between the message from Stark and a private ‘all good’ text from Steve, Bucky knew that it was going okay. But still all the tension he had buried or pushed aside all day was coming back to haunt him. He wanted to have Steve here, to reassure himself that everything was okay. That he had made things better with that awkward confession, that they actually were okay and Bucky wouldn’t lose him. Hadn’t lost him. Again.

He knew that something would change and soon. Had to change. He knew that he was doing better. And that was without having to check with Steve or Sam as he once might have. He wouldn’t say that he was normal or any such thing but who in the Tower really was? He was…stable and that was a pretty nice place to be. Hell, he was going to a fucking costume party and there will be people there who aren’t Avengers or affiliates, just normal, everyday people. He had spent today out in the world, doing normal things and not staying in his room because Steve wasn’t there to protect him. Or protect other people. He wasn’t afraid of himself anymore. 

So, of course, being him, he couldn’t just enjoy it, could he? No, he had to go and get all lusty about his best friend and find something to complicate his life. 

After an hour or so of tossing and turning and getting snappy and then apologizing to JARVIS when he suggested a few of the things that usually helped, Bucky gave up on sleep and went to the gym. He pounded on the bag for a bit, but it didn’t ease the tension in his body and the turmoil in his head. He paced, still restless. Soon the question of what to do about this Steve thing became a larger question about his entire future. He couldn’t just stay here at the Tower forever, always left behind, just living offa Stark’s generosity. Now that he was someone again, he needed something to do.

He was standing, almost panting when he realized that he was just on the verge of a panic. Stay, go, follow. Stay, go, follow. Stay, go, follow. Stay-

“Go, go, go, go-“

“Pardon, James? May I assist in some manner?”

“Music, JARVIS, somethin’ quick, with words. Nothing…nothing from before but somethin’ I know.” Instantly, music started pouring through the speakers in the gym. “Louder.”

Bucky stood there for a minute, letting the sound wash over him. He closed his eyes, as the song said, and he tried to replace his looping thoughts with the lyrics, tried to shift focus but found that it wasn’t enough to just stand there, listening. He shouted the words, drowning out his own thoughts and soon, soon, he was moving. Not gracefully, not even that coherently, it was a couple steps from a different time (blonde hair, a whiff of perfume, a bright smile), then a lurch, as muscle memory didn’t account for his new arm. The lurch became something from a movie the team showed him (popcorn, laughter, belonging). Other memories brought on violent moves with no violent intent, raw and with no purpose other than to feel. Then shifting to soft and slow and back again; the song changing and changing again and still Bucky kept moving, remembering, imitating, learning this body on his own terms.

He was lying down, drawing in deep drafts of air, back starting to stick to the mats as he lost his shirt at some point and he felt calm. Drained. Purged.

“JARVIS?”

The volume of the music diminished but it kept playing. “Yes, James?”

“No one sees that, okay?”

“I’m not sure to what you are referring, James. Unfortunately, there was a malfunction with the recording equipment in the gym. I have nothing in the archives since just after midnight.”

“Thank you.”

“Is there anything else with which I may help?”

“No, JARVIS. Just gonna shower and head to bed. I think I might be tired. Lemme know if we hear anything else from the team, okay?”

“Certainly, James. Sleep well.”

Bucky relished the slight ache in his muscles as he climbed the stairs to his room. He still didn’t know what he was going to do about Steve, about the future or even if he could handle this damn party but at least he knew one thing. 

Bucky Barnes liked to dance.


	3. Why do you sing with me at all?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint has strong thoughts on Footloose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, I have no evidence for Clint Barton loving Footloose to this extent. It just sort of happened. Like this entire fic.
> 
> And a very, very, very big thank you to machine_dove who has been most helpful in beta-ing this entire series. Any mistakes are all mine.

The team was almost two days later than they thought they would be. This wasn’t the longest they had been gone since Bucky had come to live at the Tower but it’s the longest Steve has been away since Bucky had his revelation / crisis and as much as he tried to distract himself, he kept dwelling on the possibility of something happening to Steve before he could say anything. Not that he ha=-d any idea of what he wanted to say. And the party was in less than a week and it had started to become a touchstone for Bucky, a milestone in his recovery. If he could go to this party, if he could just have fun and relax and be okay, than maybe there might be a shot for him and Steve. ‘Come as you aren’t’ could become ‘say what you can’t’. And maybe he could be confident and suave and cool and all the things he used to be and maybe he could find the right words and he wouldn’t lose Steve.

So of course the first thing that happened when Steve got back from the debriefing was that Bucky picked a fight.

“So you might want to have a chat with Stark about his estimatin’ abilities.” Bucky was on the couch, flipping through TV stations in the way he knew Steve hated, barely pausing to see what was actually on.

“What?”

“I’m just sayin’, there’s a big difference between 36 hours and more’n three days.”

“It wasn’t Tony’s fault, Buck.” Steve had ditched the jacket and cowl but was still in the rest of his uniform. He was pale and looked like he was barely putting one foot in front of the other. For some reason, this just made Bucky angrier.

“Oh, so it was yours, Cap? Being team leader and all?”

“What? No. It was nobody’s fault. We got a good lead that we hadta check out right away. C’mon, Buck, I haven’t slept in three days. Why’re you so pissy?”

“Sorry, I guess I should be happy to be left behind to play Suzy Homemaker.”

“No one expects- I thought you and Pepper were hanging out?”

“I don’t need a fuckin’ babysitter, Steve.”

“That’s not what I’m sayin’. Jesus Christ, Bucky, I am too tired to handle this bullshit right now. I’m going to get a shower and then sleep for a few goddamn hours and maybe then you’ll be ready to talk to me like a fucking adult.”

Steve stormed off to his room and Bucky was left alone. Again. Fuck. Angrily, he yanked his hands through his hair, barely noticing the tug as a few strands got caught on his left hand. He spotted his phone on the coffee table, grabbed it and fired off a text ( **I fucked up** ) to Maggie. When he doesn’t get a response after a minute, the same message is sent to Sam. He watched his phone and when no reply came, he slapped it down on the couch beside him, only for it to ding a second later.

**Sam: Sleeping. Talk to Steve.**

**Bucky: Fucked up regarding Steve.**

As he waited for Sam’s response, another message came through.

**Maggie: Oh no! What happened?**

**Bucky: Blew up at Steve for no reason.**

**Bucky: Kinda.**

**Bucky: He was away, was worried, took it out on him when he got back.**

**Maggie: *hugs* Might have to talk to him, honey. Explain that.**

Bucky was trying to figure out a way to say that he was worried that if he started talking about one thing, he might spill everything when his phone dinged again.

**Sam: Talk. Hug it out. Like real men do.**

**Maggie: I’m sure he’ll understand.**

He was screwed. He looked at his other contacts and figured only Barton and Stark would advise against talking and he made it a policy to never take advice regarding personal relationships from either of them. Not since the last (and first, so really only) time. He texted a quick **okay,** **thanks** to both Sam and Maggie, put the phone back on the coffee table and stood up. Best to get this over with.

“Steve?” He knocked lightly on Steve’s door. It was slightly ajar and he could see the light was still on but he couldn’t hear the shower.

“Just a second.” After a moment, the door opened fully. Steve had one arm braced on the doorframe like it was the only thing keeping him upright at the moment. His hair was still damp from the shower and all he had on were the Avengers boxers that Stark had bought all of them. “What is it, Bucky?”

“I’m sorry, Stevie. I-I was just worried and-“ Bucky was mortified when his voice cracked but Steve pulled him into a hug and Bucky let his head fall onto his shoulder.

“It’s okay, Buck, I’m back. I’m back. I’m safe.” Steve held him close, held him tight for not quite long enough, one arm around his waist and the other on the back of his head before he stepped back and placed his hand on Bucky’s shoulder. Bucky’s own hands had been splayed on Steve’s bare back but now dropped to his side. “Hey, hey, look at me. What’s going on? I’ve been away longer and you’ve been all right. Are you okay?”

As he looked into Steve’s earnest blue eyes, Bucky almost reached up to hold Steve’s head for a kiss, almost confessed everything, almost begged and then he saw the dark circles. He couldn’t. Not now. Not when Steve could barely stand straight. “Yeah, just a bad couple of nights. Worried about that party, I guess.”

“You’ll be fine, Bucky, I know-“ Steve’s sentence was interrupted by a yawn. “Sorry, I know you’ll be fine. And you’ll have Maggie there and ‘Tasha and Sam and-” Steve yawned again.

“Yeah, it’s probably nothin’. You go sleep, Stevie.” Bucky did an odd little duck and weave motion to get out of Steve’s arms and turn him towards his bed. He held Steve’s shoulders gently, giving him a little push.

Steve looked over his shoulder and met Bucky’s gaze. His eyes narrowed. “You’re sure you’re all right, Buck?”

“Better than you are right now. Fuck, Steve, the shape you’re in, a six year old could take you down.” Part of Bucky wanted to hold on. Or to let his hands slide down Steve’s arms, to take his hand, lead him to bed and then just hold him, make sure he’s here, he’s safe. Instead he let go and gave Steve another little push, stronger than the last, strong enough that Steve stumbled just a little.

“Why would I fight a six year old, Buck?” Steve turned the stumble into a long, semi-controlled wobble to the bed.

“It’s an evil six year old, Stevie. Go to sleep.” To make his point, he reached over and flicked off the light.

Bucky lingered in the doorway long enough to hear Steve mutter “you’re an evil six year old” as he crawled under the covers.

“That’s Barton you’re thinking of.” He closed the door. He softly walked back to the lounge area and paused, unsure, in the middle of the room. “Uh, JARVIS, speakin’ of Barton, he around?”

“Agent Barton is currently asleep in his quarters. Would you like me to message him?”

“No, JARVIS, that’s okay. Wait, does that Footloose protocol prevent someone else from playing the movie in Barton’s quarters?”

“No, James, it does not." 

“Does Barton have an alarm set?”

“Yes, Agent Barton has a light and vibration alarm. Currently, only Sir is banned from adjusting it.”

“That, uh, new version Ms. Potts mentioned, that happen to have its own version of that last song? And Barton has screens in his room like I do, right?”

“You are correct on both accounts, James.”

Okay, so maybe Barton wasn’t the only evil six year old in the Tower but Bucky had to get him back for that ambush in the kitchen. Even if it had helped, you can’t just let that shit go.

 

“Look, Tony, I’m just sayin’, unless you grew up in the Midwest, you don’t know how much of a hero Ren McCormack actually is.” Bucky was sitting at the island in the communal kitchen, finishing his coffee when Barton and Stark walked in.

“The original was set in Utah, Clint.” Stark tapped away at his tablet, appearing to work but Bucky would bet that he was just googling Footloose facts to wind Barton up more.

“And to countrify the song is uncool, man, just uncool. The whole movie is all about the power and freedom of rock and roll. Now, I can appreciate a good my dog died, wife left and truck crashed country song as much as the next guy-“

“Not this next guy.” Bucky wasn’t sure if Barton hadn’t heard Stark or just had that much practice ignoring him but he kept speaking over Tony.

“-but you don’t do that to Footloose, man! It’s just not right.” Bucky tried to keep a straight face but Stark was always more observant than he lets on.

“You!”

“Me?” Bucky knew he couldn’t pull of innocent, couldn’t really do it even before he was a brainwashed assassin but he could deflect and play dumb with the rest of them. “Nah, I’m not such a fan of country, either. Too much of a city boy, I guess.”

“No, that’s not what I-“ 

“Actually, Stark, if you had a minute, I had some questions about the arm. You got time this week to tinker with it a bit?”

“Are you still getting that weird echo from the pressure sensors?”

“No, I was just wonderin’ if the cloaking device could-”

“No, no, no, no, stop calling it that!” Stark gestured with the coffee he had just made and didn’t seem to notice when some slopped over his hand. Clint started to chuckle as he poured cereal into a bowl.  “I am blaming you, Featherhead. And Bruce. What I have done is not science fiction, it’s an incredible piece of engineering genius and I’m not having it named after a show that makes way too many mistakes when it comes to basic engineering. How many times did they have to dump that fucking warp core?”

“Look, Stark, I don’t care what you call it, some sorta Star Wars name or-“

“Star Trek” Clint interrupted from his perch on the counter. Bucky knew that Steve would prefer them to all use the table but he liked the lack of formality.

‘Whatever.”

“No, don’t get him started on Star Wars tech. Seriously.”

“One shot down an exhaust pipe? And there were no safeguards? I was designing better shit when I was a toddler!” Luckily, Tony’s tablet dinged and distracted him from his rant.

“See what I mean?”

“Stark! Tony! Whatever you want to call it, do you got time to take a look?”

“Ah, yeah, just come by the workshop whenever. The suit took some hits and needs attention. If I’m not there, just ask JARVIS.” Tony started to leave the kitchen, tablet and coffee in his hands, piece of toast balanced on the cup but he stopped at the doorway and turned back. “Oh, and Barton? It was Barnes who fucked with your alarm, not me. Play nice, boys.”

Bucky had already ducked behind the island when the first piece of cereal was thrown.

  

“Clint, Bucky, what are the rules of Cereal Killers?” Steve had on his best look of disapproval but Bucky could tell that he was amused.

“No aiming for eyes.” Barton had the high ground on top of one of the fridges but Bucky was closer to the pantry and the stock of ammo therein.

“And we can only use our hands, no cheating with rubberbands or other shit.”

“Hey, we hadn’t written the official rules at that point.”

“Face it, Barton, you’re a cheat.” Bucky flicked another Cheerio at him and ducked behind the island again to avoid the return barrage of Lucky Charms.

“Hey!” Bucky had to admit Steve’s Cap voice was impressive. “I’m not talking about your rules, I’m talking about the team’s rules.”

“We can only play in the kitchen.”

“Suckin’ up to Cap there, Barton?” Bucky didn’t move from his crouch behind the island but blindly threw a few more Cheerios in the direction of Barton’s voice.

“Bucky. Rules.”

“We hafta stop when someone wants the kitchen.” Bucky sighed and made a show of shoving the bag back into the cereal box and closing the tabs. He still didn’t stand up; Barton may deny it but he was a cheat. So was Bucky, which was why he still had a pocketful of Cheerios for later but Steve didn’t have to know that.

“Good. JARVIS, please put another couple of Roombas on duty and take the bonus for the cleaners from Bucky and Clint’s accounts.” JARVIS confirmed the request while Steve held up a hand to forestall any arguments. “No, I don’t care who was winning. You can settle that on your own.”

“It was me!” Barton jumped from the fridge to the island, dodged around Steve, tried to get out of the room before Bucky could react. “Suck it, Barnes! I rule.” 

Steve only grinned as one last Cheerio flew past his ear and hit Clint squarely in the back of the head as he ran into the dining room.

“And you said he was the evil six year old?”

“Thought you were asleep for that.” Bucky stood and put the box on the counter. He felt little bits of cereal (Barton always ate the marshmallows) slide down under the collar of his t-shirt. He tried shaking them out but finally just pulled the shirt off.

“I was definitely headin’ that way but I remember.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I act like a kid sometimes but I’m definitely one of those cute ones, right? You know, big eyes, sweet smile, can’t say no to me?” Bucky cocked his head, slowly smiled at Steve, looked up at him through his lashes and then realized he was flirting with Steve. He was definitely using a move from the James Buchanan Barnes playbook and yeah, he was not ready for this. “Anyway, I have to get ready for my fitting. Costume fitting. With Ms. Potts. I’ll see you later.” Bucky dodged around Steve and pretty much ran to the elevator. He pressed the button and glanced back, only to see Steve watching him with the same questioning look from last night. “Coffee. Uh, Barton made the coffee. Not me or Stark so yeah, it’s good.” The elevator arrived and Bucky jumped in, waving a little awkwardly at Steve as the doors closed. Fuck.

 

The fitting went well and Rene promised to have his costume delivered to the Tower in two days. Bucky was actually feeling better by the time he and Ms. Potts returned to the Tower. It’s an odd reversal from when the Tower was his only safe haven and even small trips out to get coffee left him stressed for days. He’d give all the credit to Ms. Potts but he thinks that some of the relief he feels is just having a bit of space to collect his thoughts. Yeah, it had really thrown him to realize that he was flirting with Steve but wasn’t that part of what he wants? Wasn’t that part of the more, more teasing, more flirting, more meaning to all those little touches?

He had talked to Sam before about relationships in general and yeah, he may have let him assume that he was talking about Maggie but Sam had been great to go over the red flags he should watch for, both in himself and in the other person. And Maggie had provided a wealth of information about the different types of desire and relationships. In the end, he figured that he was still a bit of an old fashion boy; despite the fact that it was another man, what he wanted was a pretty traditional relationship. And he wanted it with Steve. And if he was going to get there, he probably had to become comfortable with flirting with Steve. It’s not like he hadn’t done so before; Bucky knew he flirted with everyone but there’s a difference between just flirting and flirting with intent. By the time they were home, he had decided that he wasn’t up to intentionally flirting with Steve but he was going to try to not freak out if it happened.

They got home to discover that Stark had declared it to be a Team Bonding night, which meant takeout and movies in the lounge that evening. Steve was in a meeting with Natasha, Barton and Sam, going over some of the information they collected on the last mission. Bucky was still feeling quiet so he spent a few hours in his room, just letting JARVIS choose a mix of music for him. He wandered down to the lounge when JARVIS lets him know that the food has arrived. Like always, Steve tried to get everyone to sit in the dining room and Stark argued against him. Usually Bucky would jump right in and take Steve’s side (even if he agreed with Tony that takeout tastes better in front of the TV) but that night he was content to just let all the talk and banter wash over him. There were complaints about Lucky Charms in among the glasses and he just smiled and pointed to Barton. Steve was soon outvoted and the takeout bags are carried into the lounge.

“Are you serious about him?” When it comes to Natasha, Bucky didn’t have to worry if anyone else is in earshot. If she followed him back into the kitchen to talk about something important, no one would overhear the conversation. He also knew that he couldn’t get away with playing dumb.

He looked her in the eyes and nodded.

“Be careful, James.”

“I won’t hurt him.”

“Good to know but that’s not what I meant.” She gave his arm a squeeze, reached past him into the fridge, grabbed a can of something, and goes back to the lounge without another word.

“You okay?” Steve asked quietly as everyone was getting settled and arguing about which movie to watch.

Bucky nodded. “Yeah, just feeling quiet.” The words scraped his throat, felt like they’ve been dragged out of him but he’s rewarded by a small smile from Steve.

“If only Tony was feeling the same.” Bucky laughed softly, more at the look of fond exasperation Steve was directing at Tony, a look he knows all too well. Steve turned at his laugh, their eyes met and Bucky couldn’t look away. His own contentment was echoed in Steve’s eyes; it’s a soft, peaceful look and Bucky thought he could stay right there forever. So, of course, Stark and Barton ruined it.

 “No, Hawkguy, we are not watching another movie about a bunch of high school kids singing and dancing. I don’t care if it’s a fucking classic, I want something with some explosions.”

“Why? So you can just complain about all the engineering mistakes? C’mon, Stark, we all know that you’re a fucking genius and no one else can get anything right.”

“Why thank you, Clint. It’s nice to have that acknowledged once in a while. It’s one thing to know these truths for one’s self but public acknowledgement is always gratifying. I just feel that it’s important for us to provide our two resident geriatrics with a well-rounded film education and that’s not going to happen if all we show them is bubblegum musicals.”

“Yeah, you’re such an altruist, doing all this for Bucky and Steve.”

“My motives can be multi-layered. I am a very complex man, Barton.”

“Complex, my ass, you just-“

“I think it’s Natasha’s turn to pick.” Bruce never really raises his voice but it always seems to cut right through the din. Or maybe it’s that Tony shuts up and actually listens to him, rather than try to keep talking over him as he does with everyone else. Either way, his comment had the desired effect. Natasha smiled and told JARVIS to start playing Some Like It Hot.

 

 

 


	4. Live like never before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky gets relationship advice from an unexpected source.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, comments are appreciated and much thanks goes to machine_dove!

“Here without your better half? To what do I owe this honour? Is Steve trusting me with your virtue or does he not know you’re here?” Stark barely paused for a breath, let alone an actual answer. “Interesting. Have you come to seduce me, Buckster? You know you have to ask Pepper first. For you, she might even say yes.” And that was why Bucky had waited until after lunch to go down to the workshop. Stark was currently covered in grease and using a wrench to adjust something on his suit.

“Steve’s working.” And no, he might not know that Bucky had planned to see Stark but Bucky was not telling Tony that.

“And that does not answer my question at all which means that you don’t want Steve to know you’re here. Oh, did you have a fight with lover boy?”

“He’s not- we’re not lovers.”

“Also interesting.”

“What?”

“That little unspoken ‘yet’ at the end of your sentence.”

“Fuck. Stark-”

“Sorry, not today.” Tony winked. “Here, come hold this for me.”

“I just came ’bout my arm.” Bucky went over and put his hands where Tony indicated. “Don’t you have bots for this?”

“Right, just like that and sometimes my babies like the hands on approach, that little bit of extra TLC, you know?” Stark gave the bolt he was working on one last turn before looking up at Bucky. “So you had a question about my totally awesome Image Conversion Enhancer.”

“ICE? Really?”

“Because it’s so cool. Get it?” Tony put the piece of Iron Man armour on the workbench. Blue light traced over it and a holographic display popped up in front of Stark.

“Anyway, how do I change what it projects?”

“Getting tired of your own right hand, Buckaroo? Maybe want it to look like someone else’s? That’s kind of kinky for an old guy.” 

“What? No. I, uh-“

“C’mon, you can tell me. Safe space. Right here. Tell Uncle Tony what you need and yeah, that didn’t sound as creepy in my head.” 

“I wanna tattoo. I, uh, tried with Maggie, on the real one, but yeah, didn’t go well.”

“Any injuries?” Tony asked almost absently as he pushed aside the display he was working on and brought up another one with a few taps. 

“I broke the machine and then cried in the corner. That what ya wanna hear, Stark?”

“I couldn’t shower for close to six months when I got back from Afghanistan. Couldn’t stand the water on my face.” When Bucky didn’t reply after a few minutes, Tony turned and looked at him. “Oh, you were expecting ridicule? Or pity? Here I thought we were sharing stories about normal reactions to trauma and torture. My mistake. Oh, look, you’re adorable when you’re flustered. No wonder Steve loves you so much.”

“Can you help me or not?” Bucky will deny blushing until his dying day.

“What do you think I’ve been doing?” Stark grinned and he tapped one final spot on the holographic display. “There.”

“That’s it?”

“Just tell me what you want, Tall, Dark and Broody.”

“Can’t I, uh, just upload something? In private?”

Tony was shaking his head when JARVIS interrupted with a simple “Sir.”

“Ah, yes, apparently that would be an option, thank you, JARVIS. It’s not like I’m curious or anything but yes, Barnesy Boy, you can just pick an image and JARVIS will talk you through the process to change it up.”

“You’re an asshole, Stark.” 

“And you’re welcome, Barnes. Uh, before you go, though, you up for a quick scan? You’re just about due and we might as well get it over with.”

“Ah, fuck.”

“Or we can wait for Steve to be free?”

“No, I think- I think I’ll be okay. Let’s just get it done.”

“Okay, pick a song and I’ll get things set up.”

Bucky took a spot in the middle of the room and tried to ignore Stark as he bustled around, setting up a suite of machines around Bucky. He told JARVIS what he wanted played and enjoyed Tony’s wince and mutter about geriatric hipsters. The full body scans had provided Bruce and Tony with a wealth of data about what had been done to Bucky but it had been a learning curve for all of them as to how best to get them done. Turns out that sitting or lying down in the presence of medical equipment was close to impossible for Bucky unless he was heavily sedated. And he needed something to focus on and drown out any sounds from the equipment. His exploration of music had proved useful for more than socializing.

“And we’re done. Okay, let’s see what we’ve got.” As Stark muttered to himself, Bucky quickly moved away from the equipment. He looked over Tony’s shoulder but the displays didn’t make much sense to him. “Hmmm, looks Bruce was right.”

“About what?”

Tony ignored his question. “You still get flashbacks? Nightmares?”

“Yeah, some.”

“But not as many as before?”

“No.”

“And you’ve gotten back a lot of memories from before you fell?”

“Yeah. Not all of it but most. I think.”

“Okay, yeah, Bruce is going to be happy.”

“Stark. What the fuck are you talking about?”

Tony finally turned and actually looked at Bucky and not the holographs. “Bruce might explain this better.”

“Just use small words, Tony.”

Tony looked up to the ceiling, blew a puff of air through his lips before looking back with bright eyes and pointing the wrench that he was still inexplicitly holding in Bucky’s direction. “All right, Brooklyn, picture each of your memories as an island, each one accessible by its own bridge. Now, memories that you accessed a lot had big, old bridges with lots of traffic and some of them would have been connected to each other. New memories or things you didn’t think about a lot, they just had small, weak bridges and would be relatively isolated. With me so far?”

“Memories, islands. Bridges, access. Yeah, I got it.”

“So when Hydra found you, the fall had destroyed some of those bridges. From what we can tell, you still had your semantic memory; you had the skills that you had when you fell and you were able to learn new ones, you just didn’t have any context. The bridges that were destroyed were the ones that led to your episodic memory, basically everything that made you James Buchanan Barnes.”

“Why’d they keep havin’ ta wipe me if I’d lost the memories?”

“That’s the cool part. Thanks to that dose of whatever it was that Zola gave you, those memories weren’t staying lost. Your brain kept trying to rebuild those bridges. And the older and stronger the bridge had been, the more persistent your brain was about rebuilding it. That’s why given the chance, you were able to remember Steve. You had so many important memories that featured him, that your body just went into overdrive trying to connect to all those memories when you saw him again.”

“And the flashbacks are taperin’ off-“

“Because most of the rebuilding is done. Chances are that you’ll keep having fewer and fewer until poof, no more.”

“But I still don’t remember a lot of the missions Hydra sent me on.”

“And maybe you won’t. If they wiped you soon enough afterwards, there might not even be a memory to connect to. Or it might take a very specific trigger, something you might never encounter again for you to remember. What’s with the face? This is good news, Barnes. You might never remember every horrible thing Hydra made you do. Hurray! We should have cake.”

“I just thought- If I remembered, maybe I could, uh, be more of a help. To Steve.”

“No, bad Bucky, no feeling guilty for not getting back horrible memories. For some reason, Cap is happier with you around and that is a good thing for all of us. Steve is less fun when he is sad. And I always vote for the option that gives the most fun. And speaking of happy Steve, you planning to make a move any time soon? Because I hope you aren’t waiting for him because that’s never gonna happen.”

“I’m not- Wait. Ah, fuck. Really, Stark? You really want to have this talk?”

“Fuck, no, I’m just getting sick of all the longing looks you both give each other when you think no one is watching.”

“Both? But you said-“

“I said he wouldn’t make a move, not that he doesn’t want to. Steve is like the epitome of nobility, right? You think he’s going to make a move on his until very recently brainwashed and entirely dependent on him best friend? Yeah, not gonna happen. If you want Steve, you’re going to have to convince him that you don’t need him anymore.”

“But-“

“Need, Buckaroo- wait, I’ve used that one already today, okay, so- need, Terminator, need is being dependent on someone, needing them to get you through the day, to stay the same, to always be a safe base for you. Wanting someone, that’s standing on your own two feet and meeting them toe to toe. That’s letting them change, if they need to, and accepting if that change leads them away from you. Want is wanting them to be happy, even if it’s without you. And in our line of work, well, you need someone too much and you go down if they do. And you might not care who goes down with you. Want, well, hopefully you can pick yourself up after.”

“So you and Ms. Potts?”

“Yeah, well, I needed her for a long while. And had no clue why she wanted me. I was selfish, reckless and nearly lost her. And I’m not talking about her falling into that big fireball; I nearly lost her before that. I got so scared of losing her that I couldn’t see that I was the one pushing her away.”

“Now?”

“If Pepper died tomorrow, it would be awful. It would probably be the worst thing that ever happened to me but I would be okay. Eventually, I would be okay. Can you say that about Steve? And what do you want him to say about you?”

“Um, is this a bad time?” Both Bucky and Tony looked up to see Ms. Potts in the doorway to the workshop. She was far enough away that Bucky didn’t think she had heard their conversation but he was still at a loss for words. Luckily, Stark never was.

“No, honey, not at all.” Tony walked across the workshop to meet Pepper, greeting her with a kiss before putting his arm around her and escorting her over to the workstation. “I was just telling our one-armed bandit here that if you died tomorrow, I would be okay. I mean, I’d hold off on the strippers and parties for at least a month but I would be okay.”

“Gosh, Tony, just when I think that you can’t be any more romantic, you say things like that.” Ms. Potts tone was chiding but her eyes were soft as she looked at Stark.

“I did say that it would be the worst thing that happened to me. And the list of awful things that happened to me is not insubstantial. Do I need JARVIS to run the highlight reel?”

“Sir, completion of the highlight reel was put on hold when you couldn’t decide on the background music. I believe you couldn’t find, and I quote, ‘anything ballin’ enough.’’’

“Really Tony?” Ms. Potts tone might be exasperated but she was smiling.

“Yeah, that sounds like me. Hey, who was it that did the score for Independence Day? They could probably do something suitably epic.”

Pepper laughed. “Tony, no!”

“It’s not like I’d post it on the Internet. Although it would definitely beat Barton’s sloth video. That was not supposed to be that popular. Did you see where someone added in the hummingbird snores? It’s fucking adorable and that should not be a word I associate with Barton.”

“I, uh, I’m just gonna go.” Bucky started edging towards the door.

“Yes, James, flee while you can. Oh! But wait! It was actually you I was looking for.”

“Ah, Pep, you’re breaking my newly repaired heart.”

“Your costume just came by courier. I had it sent up to your apartment.”

“Thank you, Ms. Potts. And uh, thanks, Stark. I guess.” Bucky was glad that the arrival of his costume gave him an excuse to leave. He knew from experience that it could be difficult to get away from Stark once he got started on something. It was like the man had his own gravitational field. Bucky took the stairs back to the apartment, both to give himself time to think and to give his body something to do. 

 

“Steve?” Bucky called out softly as he entered the apartment. There was no answer. A garment bag was carefully hung on one of the hooks in the small entryway. Bucky grabbed it, went to his room and hung it just as carefully in his closet. “JARVIS, can you lemme know when Steve gets home? Just flash a light when he’s at the door or somethin’. I’m just makin’ a call.”

“Certainly, James.”

“Thanks.” Bucky took a deep breath and brought up Maggie’s contact information. He knew she didn’t take any appointments for Wednesday afternoons and usually didn’t mind a distraction from her paperwork.

“Hey James!”

“Hi Maggie, this a good time?”

“Well, I was just trying to calculate if I should keep buying latex gloves through my usual supplier or try a different brand so yes, definitely this was the perfect time to call. What’s up?”

Now, Bucky meant to have a civil conversation first, to do the whole small talk thing and to work up to the topic. Instead he found himself blurting out “Tony knows. Natasha too.”

“Wait, they know about what? Your crush on Steve?”

“It’s not a crush.” 

“Fine, your thing for Steve.”

“Yes, my thing for Steve. Thank you for makin’ it sound like I’m an actual adult.”

“James, nobody feels like an adult in these situations. Now, what did Tony and Natasha say?”

“Natasha told me to be careful and Tony said that Steve loves me but that I would hafta make the first move, on account of the whole brainwashin’ thing.”

“The superpowers really aren’t worth it, are they?” Maggie said it softly, sadly.

“Huh?” Bucky had heard her, of course, but pretended he didn’t. Maggie knew the unclassified details, his time as a prisoner of Hydra and rescue by Steve. Bucky had told her a little bit more, about some of the experiments Zola had done before his rescue and the amnesia that had followed the fall as well as the subsequent brainwashing. She had cried a lot during that talk and since then he had tried to minimise how much he talked about it. He had also started initiating some hugs with her and that seemed to make them both feel better.

“Never mind. Okay, so it sounds like they are both supportive. What’s the problem?”

“It’d be different if it was just Natasha. I expect her to know everything but not tell anyone. But if Tony knows, everyone knows.”

“And it’s bad for people to know because…”

“Because they’ll all be watchin’ and talkin’ about me and my crush on Steve.”

“So it’s okay for you to call it a crush but not me?”

“Maggie!”

“Ah, I’m sorry, James. You just remind me of my brother.”

“Your much younger brother that ya call your favourite pain in the ass? That brother?”

“That’s what I like about you, James. You pay attention when I talk. Look, honey, you’ve told me that the team is very protective of Steve, especially Natasha and Tony. It’s a good thing that they spoke to you. They want you to know that it’s okay.”

“Yeah, but-“

“But what?”

“But when it might not have been okay, then I had excuse to, uh, not do anything.”

“Yeah, sucks when all those imaginary barriers are striped away, doesn’t it?” He usually liked that Maggie would tease him but this was one of those times when he wished he was comfortable telling a lady to fuck off. He could almost feel Mrs. Rogers cuff the back of his head for even thinking about it, though.

“And Tony gave me this big lecture on havin’ to figure out if I need Steve or if I want him and now I’m all confused.”

“I’m going to need more details. Tell me what Tony said.”

Bucky relayed as much of the conversation as he remembered. 

“Wow. That man does nothing by halves, does he?”

“No, not at all.” Bucky wondered if now was the time to tell Maggie about Stark paying for the party.

“Yeah, that’s a lot of information to dump on you but he has a point. You’ve told me that you and Steve had some rough moments when you, uh, first came back.”

“Ya mean when I would freak out if he wasn’t in the room with me? Or later, when it took me almost twenty minutes to convince him that I could go piss on my own?”

“Pretty much that entire period of co-dependency.”

“Hasn’t been like that in a while.” Bucky’s tone was thoughtful and tentatively, cautiously hopeful.

“No, it hasn’t.”

“You know, Steve took me to see Peggy a while back.”

“Really? How did that go?”

“She sent Steve to get her a cup of tea and then told me that it was useless to dwell on regrets and might have beens but that she shoulda danced with Steve when she had the chance. That there’s no use waiting for when things are perfect because they never will be. And then she sorta faded and asked why I was out of uniform. And then she said that I better look out for Steve or I’d have to answer to her.”

“What did you say?”

“What else could I say? I told her ‘yes, ma’am’. Then Steve got back and her whole face lit up and it was like we were back in that bar in London. You shoulda seen her in that red dress. Every fella in the room was watchin’ her and she only had eyes for Steve.”

“Were you jealous?”

“I pretended to be but, uh, I was happy for him. He always deserved to have a dame look at him like he was the whole world. But they never did get that dance.”

“Sounds like Peggy was warning you not to do the same.”

“Ya think?”

“Yeah, I do. James, after all that you and Steve have been through, do you really think you’ll lose him if you want more and he doesn’t?”

As Bucky was about to answer, a small red light started blinking on one of the screens in his room and a second later, a picture of Steve opening their front door popped up. “Ah, Steve’s home.”

“Do you want to call back later? Or maybe drop by the shop?” Bucky could hear Steve call for him.

“No, I think I’m okay. Just gotta think, you know?” Bucky rolled off his bed and opened his door. “And no, Maggie, I don’t think Steve has his costume yet.” He spoke loudly enough to be heard in the lounge.

“Ah, Buck, no tattlin’. I told you I’d find something.” Steve came around the corner.

“Put him on the phone, James. I’ll straighten this out.”

“Here, Maggie wants to talk to you.” Bucky grinned as he held out the phone. Steve gave him a dirty look as he took it.

“Hi Maggie.”

“Hi Steve. The party is only a few days away, you know.” Maggie’s voice was faint but Bucky could still hear her.

“Yeah, I know. I’m just not good with the whole costume thing.”

“Says the guy who goes to work in a superhero costume.”

“That’s not a costume! That’s a uniform!” Bucky couldn’t help but laugh at the indignity in Steve’s voice. “And Bucky already told me that I couldn’t wear it to the party.”

“No, that would probably cause a small riot. And people would probably think you were a stripper or something.”

“Wait, what? Is that a thing?” Steve turned from the phone to look at Bucky who had started laughing so hard he was using the wall to hold himself up. “Bucky, seriously, is that a thing?”

“Steve, look, come to the shop tomorrow. I have an idea for you but I want it to be a surprise for James. And yes, James, I know you’re listening. And yes, Steve, you can get Avengers themed strippers. I’m telling you so that you don’t go and google it. Seriously, if you get curious, I’ll send you a link. There’s only one company worth checking out.”

“How you would know? Mags, why would you be looking for Avengers strippers?”

“Oh, look at the time! I gotta go! Bye sweetie!” Maggie hung up. Steve looked like he might cry and Bucky was already crying a little from how hard he was laughing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm sort of recycling an old blog post through Tony. The full thing is here: https://soimightbewrong.wordpress.com/2014/03/15/need-vs-want/ if anyone is interested. It's slightly more coherent than his comments.


	5. Not that we're scared

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Party time!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise update!

“Ah, man, I totally would have been your Duckie if you asked!” Barton hadn’t been in the limo with them but Bucky wasn’t surprised to find that he was already in the reserved area of the bar when he, Natasha and Sam arrived.

“And that’s why I didn’t ask. I see you ignored my no Footloose rule.”

“I’m just wearing jeans and a sweatshirt. If it happens to look like Ren McCormack’s iconic look from the warehouse dance scene, that’s just coincidence.” Barton smirked.

“Are you wearing an undershirt?”

“Yeah, I’m wearin’ an undershirt, it’s part of the look.” Clint’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”

“Come with me.”

“Nat, c’mon. Just for tonight?” Clint protested but he was already following Natasha out of the room.

“Okay, Barnes, now that Frick and Frack are gone, how’re you doing?” Sam took a seat on one of the padded benches while Bucky prowled the area. There wasn’t much room to roam between the two benches, the small scattering of stools and the coffee table in the middle but Bucky felt the need to move.

“Ya know me and Stevie almost saw them. We had one more goddamn gate to sneak by but Steve started coughing and couldn’t stop and the guard caught us. Got tossed out on our ears.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about.”

“Frick and Frack.” Sam gave him a blank look. “The skaters? Ice Follies? Fuck, you brought ‘em up.”

“Huh, Frick and Frack were real people? Weird. Maybe Tony could find you some footage.”

“Not quite the same, Sam.” Bucky finally sat down across from Sam. 

“No, it never is. Anyway, seriously, man, how’re you doing?”

“Well, I’m here. We’ll see what happens when this place actually fills up and the music gets louder.”

“Yeah, we might have gone a little overboard on the get here early plan.”

“No, no, it’s good. More like when Ms. Potts and I were here.”

“That’s good. Okay, so-“ Sam was interrupted by Barton and Natasha returning. The grey sweater was gone, Clint’s jeans now had a few strategic rips, his hair was standing up from his head and-

“Is that make-up, Barton?” 

“Makes my eyes pop. You gotta problem with that, Barnes?” 

“No. I’m just wonderin’ what you’re supposed to be now.”

“It’s come as you aren’t. He’s cool.” Natasha’s tone was as dry as anything but Bucky could see that a small smile play across her lips. Sam and Bucky both started laughing.

“Yeah, yeah, you both know that I look hot as fuck. And besides, what the fuck are you, Barnes? An all black suit? Really? You look like you should be on a red carpet somewhere.”

Bucky carefully adjusted the cuffs of his suit coat and straightened his tie before answering. “As Nat said, it’s come as you aren’t. I’m fucking classy, Barton.”

Natasha and Sam hadn’t asked when he had met them in the lobby so he had thought that they knew but if the moment of silence and following laughter was any indication, Ms. Potts hadn’t told anyone her idea. 

“That is fucking awesome!” Barton plunked himself down on the small couch next to Bucky.

“Okay, okay, we’ll all go splits on flowers for Pepper. Right now, maybe we should review our party plans?” 

“Aren’t we gonna wait for Steve?”

Natasha held up her phone. “He just texted me. Maggie is putting the final touches on his costume; they’ll be here soon.”

“Besides, the three of us can watch out for you, Barnes. We’ll give Cap the night off.” Barton put his feet up on the small table that looked like it had been made from a single section of a tree. Bucky could almost count the rings. He wasn’t surprised to see that the white sneakers Barton had been wearing had been replaced with boots.

“We have agents at strategic points around the building, the staff has all been vetted by Tony and we have a camera on the door running facial recognition on everyone entering. I think we all have the night off.” Natasha settled gracefully on one of the small stools. Her back was to the door; Bucky figured that was a calculated moved meant to reassure him and was surprised to find that it did. Of all of them, Natasha was the least likely to lie just to make him feel better.

“All this for little ol’ me?” Each measure had been run by Bucky but hearing it all together was a little overwhelming. 

“No, actually.” Bucky looked up and met Sam’s eyes across the table. “Face it, Barnes, of all of us up in that Tower, you are the least likely to be recognized. Most of this security is to make sure this party stays private if anyone recognizes Steve.”

“Or me. I’m riot material, too. Right? Guys?” Sam ignored Clint but Bucky could see Natasha reach over and pat his arm in a consoling gesture. 

“Bucky, we’re not here as your security detail. We’re here as your friends.”

“Maybe you are, Wilson; I’m here for the free booze and cake.”

“Bucky, Nat and I are here as your friends. Barton is here because we couldn’t find a babysitter. And as your friends, we just want to make sure you have a good time, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Do you know what you might need to be comfortable? Or do you want me to make some suggestions?”

Bucky leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He thought he’d be less nervous once he was actually here and not just waiting for the fucking party to happen. “Maybe a fuckin’ drink to start?” Sensing movement around him, he opened his eyes to find not one, but three different flasks being offered to him. “What the fuck?”

“A gift from Thor. Well, they’re for you and Steve to share.” Bucky wondered if Natasha had chosen her costume based on how many things she could hide within it. He didn’t really see any other reason for choosing the pink monstrosity.

“Ah, yeah, but I’m not-“

“-suppose to drink. Yeah, we know. That was not a fun week for any of us. But this! This is Asgardian, man.” Barton said the last bit like it should mean something to him.

“It’s okay, Barnes. We talked to Bruce and he said that this wouldn’t mess up your head like regular alcohol does. Besides, he thinks that your neurochemistry should have normalized enough by now that you could probably handle a few regular drinks. But trust me, you’ll want to go with this stuff.” 

Bucky took the flask that Sam was still holding out, opened it and took a small sip. There was nothing in his experience that he could compare the taste to. Whatever was in that flask was smooth, comforting and refreshing all at the same time. It was his mother’s chicken soup, stolen candy shared with Steve and morning coffee with the team all at once. It was a hug and murmured reassurance and a gentle shove between the shoulder blades. It was all that and more but there was no urge to gulp it down, no false promise of oblivion, just a peaceful calm spreading over his body. Bucky hadn’t realized that he closed his eyes until he opened them to find his teammates staring at him. “Wow.”

“What did it taste like to you? I got popcorn, hot chocolate and a long, hot shower. Never knew you could taste how a shower feels.” Barton might often act like a kid but this was one of the rare times that he dropped his usual cynicism; the look on his face was pure child-like wonderment.

“You mean it’s different for everyone?”

It was Sam who answered. “Yup. It’s like something from Wonka or Mary Poppins’ medicine and yes, I know you aren’t familiar with those, Barnes, we can only watch so many movies at a time but short story, yes, it tastes different for everyone. And it might taste different with the next sip. Us mere mortals can only seem to handle a drink or two but demigods and supersoldiers hold it better. And there’s no hangover. Fucking magic, man.”

“Don’t bring up the ‘m-word’ around Tony or we’ll get another lecture about advanced molecular gastronomy and state dependent biochemical interactions.” Natasha sounded bored but there was a small smile on her face that made Bucky wonder what her first sip had tasted like.

“So we took care of the drink, how else can we help?”

Bucky walked over to look at the main part of the bar. People had been coming in while they had been talking and the music had increased in volume. He could see a couple of people he recognized from the tattoo parlour, both staff and regular customers. There were also a lot of people he didn’t know. And no Steve or Maggie, not yet. “I, uh, don’t know if I’m gonna be able to go down, into the crowd but if I do, I’d want you there. Well, maybe Nat and Sam. Barton can stay here.”

“Hey!”

“As a spotter. And I don’t think I’ll need you all here at the same time so, uh, if you guys wanna dance, go ahead.”

“Sounds like a plan. And if that changes, just let us know. We’re here for you, Barnes.”

“And they’re not the only ones!” Maggie came in and Bucky was speechless for a moment. If he hadn’t heard her voice first, he wouldn’t have even recognized her. Her hair, usually curly and loose, had been straightened and was tightly pulled up. Instead of jeans and a t-shirt, she was in a conservatively cut dress patterned with …rulers? And most importantly-

“Your tattoos! Where are they? Oh, fuck, uh, sorry, Maggie, this is Sam Wilson and Clint Barton. Sam, Barton, this is Maggie.” Bucky went over to Maggie’s side as he made the introductions. He resisted the urge to look behind her for Steve.

“Nice to meet you; I’ve heard a lot of good things about you from both Steve and Barnes.” Sam stood to shake hands with Maggie. 

“Nice to meet you, Sam. And you’re Barton. I’ve heard stories.” 

“Barnes was either lying or exaggerating. Except if he was talking about my good looks; then, as you can see, he didn’t give you the whole story.” Barton winked at Maggie as he shook her hand.

“And you’ve met Natasha.”

“Nice job on the cover-up. I can barely tell and I know where to look. And I like your theme.” Natasha smiled.

“Thank you so much! Is that an actual Pretty in Pink replica? And how do you make that dress look good?”

“Is this another movie thing?” Bucky knew that he sounded a bit plaintive but he was starting to feel like the whole night was just going to be one reference after another that he wouldn’t understand. And where was Steve?

“You haven’t introduced him to John Hughes? Oh, I have to be there when you do.”

“Sure thing, movie nights have become a bit of an event for us and there’s always enough room.” Sam smiled at Maggie.

“Steve is just getting me a drink. I may have sent him off because I wanted to give you something first, James.” Maggie pulled a small velvet bag from the giant straw bag on her arm.

“How much stuff do you have with you?” Bucky asked as he loosened the drawstrings of the bag.

“I think I used like a pound of makeup to cover my tattoos so I brought a towel and a different outfit because I know I’m going to sweat this all off. And that’s why you’re not getting a hug right now because there is no way I am messing up that incredible suit.”

The contents of the bag looked like a scrap of black lace tangled with black ribbons; he pulled it out by the end of one of the ribbons. “A mask?”

“Yeah. You don’t have to wear it, if you don’t want to. I just thought that it might complete the classy masquerade look.”

“So Pepper told you and none of us? I’m cancelling the flowers.” Bucky was glad that Sam had pulled the attention off of him for a moment.

“She gave me a call when she found out I was dressing Steve. The mask has her approval.”

Bucky looked down at the small mask. It was delicate, unthreatening, nothing like what he had worn as the Winter Soldier. He thought about how it would look, the delicate lace paired with the masculine lines of the suit, how it would add mystery but do nothing to actually obscure his features. This was a night that he didn’t really want to be himself. “Yeah, yeah I wanna wear it. But I need one more thing.”

“What’s that?”

“I want my eyes to pop.” Barton whooped and held up a hand for a high-five. Maggie looked a little confused, Sam was resigned and Natasha just smiled as she produced what looked like a pencil from somewhere in her dress.

The slight discomfort of having someone so close to his eyes, even it was someone he trusted as much as Natasha, was worth it when he put on the mask, looked up to face everyone and heard Barton’s muttered “fuck, that’s just not fair.”

It got even better when Steve came in a moment later, eyes on the three glasses that he was carefully holding. “Apparently, they make more than one type of martini so I got you- Oh. Bucky?” 

“Fuck, Stevie, your hair. It’s purple!” Bucky only dimly registered Maggie and Natasha taking the glasses from Steve’s hands before settling onto the padded bench next to Sam. Steve whose eyes seemed even bigger and bluer and who was currently dressed in tight black jeans, big black boots, a gray sleeveless shirt and who hadn’t said anything since he had seen Bucky.

“Holy fuck! You went classic punk with Rogers! And those tattoos, are they real?” Barton had jumped up from the other bench and was poking at the tattoos on Steve’s arms.

“Yup. Almost two days work in-between our other clients but we had fun. And no one is going to think the guy with tattoos and a purple mohawk is Captain America.” Maggie sounded proud of her work. Or maybe proud of Bucky’s reaction to her work. 

“That’s why you wouldn’t give back my hoodie last night.” Bucky couldn’t believe that was all he could think to say.

“Yeah, well, wanted it to be a surprise.” Steve went to rub the back of his neck the way he always did when he was a little self-conscious and frowned a little when his hand nudged a purple spike. “Do you like it?”

Bucky now had the problem of having too much to say. Fuck yes was a little over enthusiastic. Fuck me, please was a little explicit. And he knew that fucking Barton would laugh at him if he told Steve that he thought he looked beautiful. “Suits ya, punk.”

It was the right response if Steve’s smile was any indication. “And what are you supposed to be? Besides a jerk, I mean.”

“Me? You can’t guess?” Bucky smirked, enjoying the way Steve was looking at him.

“Do they know we’re still here?” Bucky ignored Barton’s stage whisper, keeping his eyes on Steve. Something did ping off Barton’s forehead, though, and he sat back down with a slight huff.

“I’m stumped, Buck.”

“I’m pure class, Steve.” Bucky enjoyed the way Steve’s eyes widened before he started laughing. Before he thought about it too much, he took a step forward and put an arm around Steve, nudged Barton with his foot to get him to vacate the bench and gently pushed Steve down. If Bucky’s arm happened to linger on the back of the bench, no one commented but Bucky thought that Maggie and Natasha must be silently conversing if the looks they exchanged meant anything. 

After that, he found it surprisingly easy to relax. The server who delivered their selection of appetizers knew the correct code phrase. And Barton just happened to greet the server by name, which confirmed Bucky’s suspicion that more than a few former SHIELD agents might be mixed in with the catering crew. It might have been the Asgardian ale that he and Steve were drinking but he found it hilarious when Maggie finally took pity on him and told him what her costume was ( _“I’m straight, James. Get it?”_ ). 

And then there was Steve. Again, it might have been the drinks but Bucky found it a little easier to flirt with purple mohawk Steve. They had always been tactile as friends; backslaps, shoulder nudges, even hugs were the norm, not the exception. Aside from the first few months of living at the Tower (as well as those couple of weeks of panic not that long ago), small, casual touches were a daily part of their relationship. It was a soothing habit for both of them. But tonight, those small touches seemed to be charged somehow. Sam, Natasha and Barton (albeit reluctantly) had handed over the flasks from Thor and Bucky and Steve were swapping one back and forth. It was relaxed, casual and just perfect.

Sam suggested that they brave the dance floor before it got too crowded. Steve volunteered to stay behind, to have eyes on their stuff as well as on them. Bucky was going to protest when Steve just tugged him a little closer and spoke into his ear. “Go. I got your back, Buck.”

Bucky wasn’t sure if Steve felt the little shiver that went through him. Sure it was loud in the bar now but it was questionable if Steve needed to be that close for Bucky to hear him or if he was that close because he wanted to be. He did feel better when Maggie volunteered to keep Steve company. Apparently she needed at least two more martinis before she was ready to dance. 

Between the three of them, Sam, Natasha and Barton managed to carve off a little chunk of the dance floor and give Bucky some breathing room in the crowd. He still only lasted a few songs. Even the magic booze from Thor couldn’t help him with the combination of the crowd, the noise and the heat. He let the others know that he was heading back. Sam moved to go with him but Bucky signalled that it was fine if he stayed. He wasn’t panicked, just aware that he was approaching his limit. 

He stopped by the bar on his way up to get another martini for Maggie and soon realized why Steve had come back with three. He didn’t know that there could be so many varieties of martini. He ended up getting a classic one and something with fresh strawberries. He figured that if Maggie didn’t like it, he and Steve could finish it.

“James, perfect timing! I was just telling Steve that I should probably go say hi to a few other friends. Oh, and would you be okay with a couple of people coming up here? Everyone from the shop is really glad you came and a few asked me to ask you if it was alright to come say hi?”

Bucky just looked at Maggie for a moment. Here he was at a costume party, in costume, he had danced, he had a (magic) drink and now he had people who wanted to talk to him. People who he didn’t live with and had only met post-, well, post everything. He realized that he was taking a bit too long to answer when Steve and Maggie both started to look a little concerned. And he started laughing because he had been so busy monitoring himself for signs that he wasn’t okay, he hadn’t even registered that he was enjoying himself. He was okay. “No, I’m okay. Really, that’s why I was laughing. I’m good. I mean, might be best if not everyone came at once but yeah, that would be great.”

Maggie grinned. “Awesome!” She leaned down and gave Steve a kiss on the cheek before giving Bucky one as well. She was almost out of the door before he remembered the drinks he was holding.

“Maggie, wait! I, uh, got you a drink.”

“Which one?”

“Your pick. This one’s dry with vodka and this one’s, uh, pink. With strawberries.”

“I can’t leave you with the dry one. That much class in one spot would just be too much for any of us to handle.” Maggie plucked one of the glasses from his hands and gave him another quick kiss. “Thank you, James. See you later, Steve. Oh, and James? Make sure that he makes it to the dance floor at some point tonight.”

“Will do, ma’am.” Bucky didn’t even think twice about sitting next to Steve. Even with all the other seats free, it just seemed natural plunk down next to him. He held out the pink drink. “Wanna try?”

“You tryin’ get me drunk, Barnes?”

“Workin’ on it.” He watched as Steve took a drink; the delicate glass in his big hand, the pink drink with the purple hair and the soft smile with all the tattoos was a study in contrasts and Bucky wished for once that he was the artist, that he could find some way to capture this moment. And then he remembered Stark’s price for paying for the party. He casually slipped his phone out of his pocket and was glad that Steve had made him practice with it so much when he first started going out because he knew just how to slide to get the camera.

“Bucky! What the hell?”

“Stark wanted a picture of you in costume. Was his price for payin’ for everything. “ He shrugged like he had no intention of printing out and framing that picture.

Steve’s response was interrupted by a knock on the side of the doorway. They both looked up to see Stewart and Charlene.

“Maggie said we could come up?” 

“Yeah, Stewart, c’mon in. Hey, Charlene, is that your work on Steve’s forearm?”

“Which one?” Charlene sat on the other side of Steve and Stewart grabbed a seat opposite. Bucky pointed. “No, that’s one of Travis’s. He’s really come along, hasn’t he?”

Soon Steve and Stewart were deep in a discussion about which tablet was best for drawing while Charlene and Bucky talked about Steve’s new tattoos. Steve barely even blinked as he was poked and prodded. Then Travis came and joined in, walking Bucky through the art he had created for Steve’s arms. Bucky didn’t even know how long they had all been talking but he remembered his promise to Maggie when he spotted Steve’s toe tapping. It was just the three of them; Charlene and Stewart had gone to get drinks. 

“’Scuse me, Travis. Steve, go dance.”

“Oh, no, I’m okay, Buck.” Steve turned and smiled at him.

“Go. Maggie’s orders. “ Bucky leaned a bit closer as Travis laughed. “I wanna watch you have fun.” Steve’s eyes darkened and his smile slipped into something a little sharper. “Go.”

Still holding Bucky’s eyes, Steve took the flask he was holding, took a long sip and handed it back. “All right. Call if you need me.”

Bucky watched Steve leave, only remembering that Travis was there when he spoke. “Well, that answers one thing.”

“Huh? What?” Bucky took his eyes off of Steve with reluctance. 

“Why Steve never even noticed when I would flirt with him.”

“Maybe. Maybe you just suck at flirting.” Bucky took a sip from the flask and smirked.

 

“Fuck, James, you have to see this.” Maggie’s voice and her sudden appearance jolted Bucky out of his conversation with Stewart. And as soon as it registered exactly what song was playing, he had some idea of what he was about to see. The others gave him the best spot at the balcony but they all crowded around to see what was happening on the dance floor.

“What the fuck, Barton?” Bucky yelled but he knew Clint couldn’t hear him over the music. The dance floor was almost clear and Barton was currently trying to direct an enthusiastic but clearly clueless Steve in a tragic re-enactment of a scene from the movie Bucky and Ms. Potts had watched. “Who let Clint near the DJ?”

“It was Stark.” Somehow Bucky was not surprised when Natasha appeared at his elbow.

“How?”

“I don’t know but Clint had no contact with the DJ. Sam and I made sure of that. It must have been Stark.”

“Oh my God, are they going to do the lift?” Charlene squealed. And sure enough, in an absurd parody of the original, Barton switched from leading Steve to dancing away from him. Bucky didn’t recall his moves going with this song, though.

“Isn’t that from Footloose?” Stewart sounded puzzled. 

“Of course it is!” Bucky knew that Clint was the target of Natasha’s ‘I may murder someone’ face but he suspected that Stewart was going to end up with nightmares again.

A cheer went up from the crowd as Barton did a backflip and appeared to straighten an imaginary tie. He and Steve exchanged nods before Clint started running towards Steve. The crowd cheered again as Steve effortlessly lifted Barton into the iconic pose and held him there. Steve even showed off a little by turning in a complete circle before setting Barton back on his feet. 

“Oh. I don’t remember any grinding in that scene. Especially the guy on guy kind. That’s a sequel I would definitely go see.” Bucky would have agreed with Charlene but part of him was busy watching Steve and the other part was devising ways to make Barton’s life very uncomfortable. And then Steve looked up. His eyes unerringly found Bucky’s and the blue of them was electric and the look was hot with want. 

“I don’t think I suck at flirting, James.” Travis muttered.

Bucky had no answer. His focus was locked on Steve. He barely registered the crowd surrounding Barton while Steve slipped off to the side. Steve didn’t seem to feel the need to play Captain America or Nice Guy Steve Rogers. He nodded and waved but didn’t stop to talk as people called out to him as he passed. Bucky didn’t notice the others in the private area being gently herded out by Maggie and Sam; he just watched as Steve made his way over to the stairs. He stayed at the balcony even as he lost sight of Steve.

“Bucky?”

“Dance with me.” The words were out before Bucky even really thought about what he was saying, before he even turned around. When there was no reply, he turned to face Steve who was still in the doorway, looking unsure despite the bright purple mohawk and arms full of tattoos. “Steve?”

Steve took a deep breath, eyes still on Bucky, flicking along his face, down the lines of the suit and back to meet his eyes. “Yes. Bucky. Please.”

The area wasn’t really meant for dancing but Bucky pushed the table and stools towards the balcony, making just enough room. By some coincidence or, more likely, intervention by Maggie (or Sam or Natasha) the song that came up next was slow. 

Even by the standards with which they grew up, their dance was chaste. Slow, intimate, holding hands, arms around each other, cheek to cheek but perfectly acceptable for a dance hall. Except for the gender of the dancers, no one would have looked twice at them.

The look exchanged at the end was not so chaste. And once again, Bucky spoke without thinking.

“We gotta talk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I grew up hearing the phrase 'Frick and Frack' but until this story and wanting to see if it was something Bucky would recognize, I had no idea it referred to real people. 
> 
> Last chapter will be posted tomorrow.


	6. It's just that it's delicate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve isn't sure if he want to hug Sam or hit him for teaching Bucky to talk about his feelings.

“We gotta talk.”

“Seriously, Buck?” Steve dropped his head so that they were forehead to forehead but didn’t let go. 

“Yeah, I, uh, think we should, Stevie.”

“Ugh, you are such a jerk. I really hate you right now.”

“No, ya don’t.” Bucky couldn’t help but smile at the petulance in Steve’s voice.

“No, I don’t.” Steve sighed and stepped back. He rubbed a hand over his face and smiled at Bucky. “When did you turn into the responsible one?”

“Turn into? When were you ever the responsible one?”

“There was that time in-. No. Or what about- Oh. Um, you said something about havin’ to talk?”

“Nice change of subject, Steve. But yeah, talkin’. Not here though.”

“Too loud?”

“Too much Barton.” Bucky grimaced as he thought about that dance between Steve and Barton. Someone was getting all their Lucky Charms switched out with Bran Flakes for the foreseeable future. It was likely that Natasha would help as well, given Barton’s behaviour tonight. “So, there’s a car waitin’ for me. Out in the alley. Stay, go, follow, Steve?”

Steve took a deep breath and turned his head to scan the dance floor before looking back at Bucky. Even with that quick of a glance, Steve probably knew the locations of all of their friends. “I’m gonna follow, Buck. Might be best if I tell Nat and Maggie that we’re headin’ out; save ‘em some worry, maybe. And my bike is back at the shop.”

“Okay. Yeah, makes sense. I’m just gonna-“ Bucky took a step towards the door but turned back and gave into his impulse to hug Steve. Things were going to change and on the cusp of that change, he was suddenly aware of all that he might lose. And maybe, if he was being completely honest, just as aware and afraid of all that he might gain.

“I’ll be there, Bucky. Soon as I can.” Steve held him tightly until Bucky gave him a big squeeze and stepped back.

“Yeah, see you at home.” Steve nodded and Bucky left the room, heading for the employee exit and the waiting car. He didn’t look back.

 

Bucky was regretting his decision after his fourth lap of the lounge. He should have waited for Steve. How long does it take to say goodbyes, anyway? He dragged his hand through his hair in frustration and caught his fingers on the ribbon of the mask. He had actually forgotten that he was wearing it. It got him thinking, though, and he interrupted what would have been the fifth loop of the apartment to go into his own room. He carefully hung up every piece of the suit and set the mask on top of his nightstand. As much as he had enjoyed being Classy James that night, he wanted to have this conversation as himself. He had a nice hot shower and was careful to not think about Steve in his punk costume.

Once he was all dried off, he got dressed in his most comfortable sweats and a t-shirt he bought just to piss off Barton. It was red and had all the male Avengers except Barton on the front with a caption reading ‘I need a hero’. It was bootleg merchandise. No official Avengers merchandiser would leave out either Hawkeye or the Black Widow, not after what happened the last time. Bucky looked at his own hoodies and then went to Steve’s room to get one of his. For all that Steve like his t-shirts ridiculously tight, he tended to pick oversized hoodies that were soft and warm. When Bucky had first gotten back, Steve had given him one of his hoodies and it had been the first thing that he had worn in decades that that wasn’t issued or stolen. It was still in his closet. He had just come out of Steve’s room when JARVIS spoke.

“James, Captain Rogers has just entered the garage.”

“Thank you, JARVIS.” Bucky first sat down in the plush armchair but jumped up almost immediately; he didn’t want to make it seem like he didn’t want to be close to Steve. He then sat on the couch but soon had second thoughts about that. He was just about to go to his room and pretend that he hadn’t been waiting when Steve came through the door and it didn’t matter anymore.

“What the fuck happen to you?” Bucky was off the couch as Steve came through the door, mohawk a mess and purple streaks running down his face, arms and shirt.

“Fuckin’ helmet laws!” Normally Steve was fine about being a modern day poster boy for motorcycle safety. He wore his helmet everywhere in the city and never complained. If he needed the wind in his face, he’d find some back roads and Stark would make sure that the media didn’t hear about it. 

“What happened?” Bucky grabbed a dishtowel from the kitchen and tossed it to Steve before leaning on the back of the couch.

“Whatever Maggie used on my hair was like cement and I couldn’t get my helmet to sit proper.” Steve scrubbed at the purple streaks on his face.

“Why didn’t ya just leave it off? It’s late, ya weren’t far from home.”

“And get caught by the cops looking like this? Yeah, I don’t think even Tony could cover that up. I figured that a little water might loosen it up so I bought a bottle and poured it over my head.”

“Didn’t work?”

“Oh, it worked. It worked great on the purple shit, but not on the fuckin’ cement. I used the whole bottle and my hair was still stickin’ straight up.”

“So what’d you do?” 

“What could I do? I just pushed the helmet on and tried to ignore how my hair crunched. It crunched, Bucky. Why did I let Maggie do this to me?” Steve pouted and Bucky wished he hadn’t left his phone in his room. A photo of Steve looking like this would buy a lot of favours from Stark.

“Because at heart you are a rebellious little shit and you wanted to show that off for a night. Go have a shower, Stevie, you’ll feel better.”

“But you wanted to talk. And you already had to wait.”

“And I can wait a little longer so you don’t look like a drowned purple rat. Go.”

“Yeah, okay. Thanks.”

Bucky waited until Steve left the room before he gave in and laughed. 

“I can hear you, asshole!”

“I waited until ya left!”

“Just make sure there’s somethin’ to eat when I get out and you’ll be forgiven.”

 

Bucky was smiling as he threw some rice in the cooker and looked through the bags of frozen food in the freezer. He and Steve could go for a few days on pretty thin rations, something that had come in handy with the Commandos but given the chance, they could both pack away a lot of food. They had both eaten their fair share of the appetizers at the party but they didn’t really qualify as an actual meal. He settled on a bag of a curry that Bruce had taught him to make. 

Of everyone in the Tower, he and Bruce had taken the longest to find their common ground. As much as Bruce might protest that he wasn’t an actual medical doctor, he was the closest to one that Bucky would let near him and initially that was only with Steve in the room. Bruce understood that it was nothing personal and had taken Bucky’s wariness in stride. After Bucky had stopped needing regular medical treatment, he still gave Bruce a wide berth; Bucky being too aware of his own alter ego to trust someone else’s. 

Then there had been a night when most of the others had been away at some publicity thing and Bucky had wandered down to the communal kitchen to find something to heat up. He had come across Bruce making what Bucky had recognized as one of his favourite dishes; something he thought Stark’s cook made. And even though Bruce was wielding a kitchen knife with surprising skill, at that moment in the quiet kitchen, there was a peace and stillness about Bruce that Bucky was drawn to. Without a word he took one of the stools and perched well away from Bruce but where he could still see everything. And without acknowledging him, Bruce started to quietly narrate his cooking, going back over what he had already done and giving step-by-step instructions for how to make the dish. Soon after a small box of neatly written out recipe cards had found its way into the kitchen and JARVIS started letting Bucky know when Bruce was cooking. It wasn’t something they talked about but Bucky had walked in on the awkwardness that was Steve giving Bruce a hug the morning after Bucky had first cooked for him and Steve. 

All of which meant that now he and Steve had plenty of choice when it came to impromptu late night suppers. Throw a lot of rice in the cooker, thaw the curry in the microwave, finish heating it on the stove and in twenty minutes you had a meal fit for a family of six or two hungry supersoldiers. Everything was just about ready when Steve came into the kitchen.

“Your hair is still a little purple.” Bucky pointed for Steve to take a seat at the table.

“I know but at least it’s lyin’ flat again. It took about three washes to get it all out. I’m never doing that again.” Steve ignored Bucky and started setting the table with actual placemats and napkins, things Bucky didn’t usually bother with. 

“Yeah, right! You’d do it all again in a second.” Bucky plunked two huge bowls of rice and curry down on the table and sat next to Steve. “I saw ya out there on the dance floor.”

“I mighta noticed you lookin’.” Steve looked at Bucky and his eyes were heavy and dark for a moment. And then he grinned. “So whaddaya gonna do to Clint?”

“Let’s just say the prizes in his cereal are really gonna suck for a while.”

“Just remember to seal the boxes back up; that’s what tipped him off last time.”

“Yeah, yeah, teach your grandma to suck eggs, will ya?” Steve laughed and they both started to plough through their meals. A comfortable silence descended and lasted while they both had seconds and tidied up the kitchen. Normally, Bucky would be complaining about Steve’s insistence on cleaning the kitchen right after they eat but tonight he was glad of the delay. And apparently he wasn’t the only one that was a little nervous, if the way that Steve was twisting the dishcloth between his hands was any indication. “Livin’ room?” 

“Yeah.” Steve answered softly. Bucky nodded and walked the little ways needed to sit on the couch. Steve followed. They sat, carefully not looking at each other. After a couple minutes of silence, Steve stood up. “I’ll be right back.”

Bucky didn’t watch Steve go; he just buried his head in his hands and tried to think of how to start this conversation. He only looked up when Steve said his name and tossed one of Thor’s flasks at him. “Thank fuck.”

“Figured we might both need a drink.”

Bucky took a sip and passed the flask to Steve. It was unlike any drink he had had the whole night. This sip was crisp, bright and fresh. It mingled with the lingering taste of curry, taking the heat from the chillies and somehow transforming it into that first mouthful of cold water on a hot day, the blend of sweet and tart in the perfect lemon meringue pie and the way the air would smell just after a summer thunderstorm. 

“So do you want me to start?” Steve had a bit of Captain America in his voice, that willingness to do something he really didn’t want to do but thought it might be expected. Or necessary. Or might spare someone else a moment’s discomfort. It was a bit that Bucky particularly hated.

“Fuck no! Steve, least I can do is talk about my feelings first. I mean, I’m the asshole who denied you your first kiss in seventy years.” The last was said with mock sympathy and Bucky started to laugh as Steve hit him with a nearby pillow.

“That was not-“

“The one with Natasha doesn’t count. And yeah, she told me about it.”

“Still- wasn’t- my- first- kiss.” Each word was punctuated with a hit from the pillow. They were both a bit breathless when they sat back. Steve twisted a corner of the pillow in his hands as he spoke. “So, uh, that coulda been a kiss? I thought I mighta read you wrong, that you might be lettin’ me down gently or something.” 

“No, ya hadn’t. I’ve been thinkin’ about some of that stuff a lot lately.”

“Kissing? Or, uh, kissing me?” Bucky inclined his head on the second question. “Oh. Is that what you’ve been talking to Maggie about?”

Bucky nodded. “She kinda made an assumption about us, a few weeks ago, thought we were a couple and it kinda got stuck in my head. Kinda did my head in for a while.”

“And you couldn’t talk to me because-“

“-‘Cause I kept looking at my best friend and seeing someone that I wanted to fuck. And it’d been a long time since I had thought that about anyone, girl or guy. Freaked me out.”

“What freaked you out? The me bit or the, uh-“

“The guy bit? Maggie asked the same. And no, that wasn’t it. I’ve always kinda noticed certain fellas.” Bucky paused, thinking. “It wasn’t quite the same way I noticed girls and not as often, made it easy to ignore. And, hell, Stevie, you know what went on in the neighbourhood. It was a lot easier and safer to just go out with a dame.”

“Yeah, I remember. And you’d always get a girl for me, too. Always watching my back, weren’t you?”

“Somebody had to.” Bucky smirked and Steve hit him with the pillow again. They were both quiet for a moment.

“So, um, if I wasn’t wrong about you wantin’ to kiss me, what stopped ya? ‘Cause, um, I’d like that too.” Steve finished in a rush and Bucky could see a faint blush on his face.

“I kinda got that when you called me an asshole for stoppin’.”

“I called you a jerk, not an asshole.”

“Well, maybe ya shoulda. Look, Stevie, I do want you. Fuck, I want you. But I want you now.”

“As opposed to later? I’m confused, Buck.”

“No, as opposed to then.” Bucky took a deep breath. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He couldn’t say this while he was looking at Steve. “I’m attracted to you now. As you are. And I wasn’t when ya were, uh, little and you deserve better than that.”

There was silence. Bucky could sense movement, though, and fearing the worst, he opened his eyes to find Steve with a hand over his mouth and his shoulders shaking. Cautiously, he reached out a hand but Steve waved him off. Without looking at Bucky, he took several deep breaths. His shoulders stilled, he looked up to meet Bucky’s eyes and promptly started laughing again. “Oh, God, I’m sorry, Bucky. I’m sorry, it’s just your face!”

“What the fuck, Steve?” Bucky stood up, a bit angry, ashamed and ready to storm off. He had been worried about this for weeks, months almost and he had been prepared to apologize, to explain that he knew he wasn’t good enough and that he was sure that the crush would go away and he didn’t want Steve to feel obligated in any way. Steve laughing was not what he had expected at all and he was completely thrown. Before he could get more than a step away, though, Steve caught his wrist, the metal one, the one that they both knew could break any grip of Steve’s if Bucky really wanted to go. He stayed. Steve tugged and Bucky sat back down. Steve shifted his grip to hold Bucky’s metal hand in both of his. It might currently look like a mirror image of his right hand, thanks to Stark’s tech, but Bucky knew that Steve was feeling each ridge of the articulated metal just as he could sense the warmth and pressure of Steve’s hands.

“I’m so sorry, Bucky. It just wasn’t what I was expecting. I’d say that was the last thing I was expecting. But Buck, there are really only two people alive who knew me then, you and Peggy. Everyone else has only known me like this.” Steve gestured to himself. “If I only wanted people who wanted me both then and now, my options would be pretty slim. Doesn’t mean I’m okay with someone who only wants me for how I look. But I know that ain’t you.”

“But- but I, uh, know-“ Bucky stopped, not sure how to say the next part.

“What?”

“I know how you felt ‘bout me then.”

“Well, yeah, you were – are my best friend.”

“No, I, uh, mean the way you looked at me. Like you wanted me.”

“Like I wanted- Bucky, I wasn’t attracted to you then.” Steve just looked confused so he was probably telling the truth; he usually looked slightly in pain when he tried to lie to Bucky.

“But I’d catch you lookin’ sometimes and if you noticed you’d look away, pretend nothin’ happened. And usually I, uh, was shirtless when it happened.”

“Oh, this is embarrassing.” Steve let go of Bucky’s hand to cover his face.

“I’ll try not to be an asshole and laugh, then.”

“I said I was sorry!”

“Yeah, yeah, ‘fess up, Stevie. Why were you lookin’?”

“Okay.” Steve took a deep breath and looked right at Bucky. “I knew who I was. And what I was capable of. I also knew how people saw me and all the things they thought I couldn’t or shouldn’t do. And I’d look at you. No one ever made those assumptions about you. You were tall and healthy and handsome and no one ever tried to tell you that something was too heavy or that you should slow down or something was too hard for you. You just did stuff and I was jealous.”

“ An’ I was one of those people who told you those things. Did you hate me sometimes?”

“Sometimes.” Steve smiled. “But you useta hit anyone else who said ‘em. And you never stopped me from tryin’.”

“Yeah, well, I’m your best friend. They were just assholes. I‘m the only one who gets say when you’re bein’ a stupid punk.” Steve’s smiled widened. “So, the looks? You were just jealous? Nothin’ more?” And there it was, the slightly pained look of a Steve Rogers trying to keep something from Bucky Barnes. “Steve?”

“Fine! Sometimes I used you as a reference and I’d draw myself with the body I wish I had.”

“Wow. Yeah. You musta been really disappointed when you got outta that pod and you looked like that.” Bucky gestured at Steve. He continued, his tone dripping with false sympathy. “All those years, wantin’ to be me. Did you ask them to try again? Show them some pictures for a reference?”

“Fuck off! I didn’t know this would happen!”

“Exactly! And you said I was takin’ all the stupid with me. Seems a bunch was left behind. Stupid punk, lettin’ a Stark experiment on you.”

“It turned out fine.”

“And that’s just what you said when you mouthed off to that Polish kid and I had to boost you over that fence when all his friends showed up. You nearly broke your ankle when you landed.”

“But I didn’t! And I still think we coulda took ‘em!” Steve grinned at Bucky’s expression. “Anyway, have we talked enough? Are you going to kiss me or what?” Steve tilted his head and looked up at Bucky though his eyelashes.

“You tryin’ distract me?” Bucky reached up and brushed a bit of hair away from Steve’s face.

“Is it working?” Steve leaned closer, smiling.

“Maybe.” Bucky leaned in and watched Steve’s eyes flutter shut. Then he stopped. “Wait.”

“I swear to God I am going to kill you.” Eyes still closed, Steve dropped his chin to his chest.

“What changed?”

“What?”

“If you didn’t want me then, what changed? I mean, I didn’t exactly get the same upgrade that you did. And you could have anyone, Steve.”

“I don’t want anyone, Bucky, I want you.”

“But why?”

“You know me, Bucky. Inside and out. I didn’t know how important that was to me until I got you back.” Steve pulled Bucky towards him into a hug. He held him like he might disappear at any moment. Steve’s tone was bitter in a way that Bucky had rarely heard him be. “Ever since they found me, I feel like I’ve just been adrift. I lost everything; didn’t even have time to grieve for you and suddenly they all expect me to be Captain America again. And I do it. What else can I do? I had no one here, nothing except the uniform. And I think that I’m at least working for the good guys and the rug gets pulled out from under me again and I don’t know what to believe in anymore. Except for you. They all might see Captain America or ‘aw, shucks’ Steve Rogers but you see me.”

“Yeah, I see you, punk.” Bucky smoothed a hand over Steve’s head.

“See? They all thought it was funny that I was dressed like that. You’re the only one who knows that Captain America is the real costume. Without the serum and the suit, I’d still be that little guy that no one thought could do anything.”

Bucky gently gripped Steve’s hair and pulled his head back until they were eye to eye. “And I’d still follow that little guy from Brooklyn, the one too dumb to run from a fight. I’ll follow that guy anywhere. You got that?”

“Yeah.” Steve sniffed and reached over to get a tissue from the box in the coffee table. 

“And you got more than just me. Sam sees more. And Natasha sees everything. Stark tries in his own weird way. And I think when it comes to needin’ friends, he’s got you beat in the ‘being desperate’ department. Look at all he did to have us here. And you ever notice that as much as he bitches and moans he calls Team Bonding nights more’n anyone? And maybe Maggie and everyone there knows that you’re Captain America but they give you just as much shit as all the other regular customers. I know, I’ve been watchin’. So you got more than just me, okay?” Bucky gently shook Steve when he just nodded.

“Yeah, okay.”

“Steve,” Bucky shifted his hand around to cup Steve’s face, tilting it up until they were eye to eye again, until Steve could see the sheen in his own eyes. “I need to know if you can see that. Stevie, beautiful, I need to know that if somethin’ happens, that you’re gonna be okay.”

Steve closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Opens his eyes and then leans back, just a little away from Bucky. “There were pictures in Peggy’s room. Pictures of her family.”

“Yeah, I saw ‘em.” Bucky lets his hands drop back to his lap. 

“That first visit when I saw them and realized that she had had this whole life without me, after me, that was when it hit me how long I’d be gone. It hadn’t felt that long since I last saw her, no longer than some of the Commandos’ missions, but she had lived this whole life. She met someone, had a family and I was so fucking grateful. So glad that this person who I loved so much, love so much, had been happy. I get it, Buck, and I’ll be okay for you as long as you do that same for me.”

“I will. If you kick it, I’ll even give up strippers and parties for a month.” Bucky reached over and pulled Steve close. He wouldn’t admit it but he needed to be touching Steve if he had to talk about losing him.

“What?” Bucky grinned when Steve was surprised into laughing.

“Something Stark said. About the difference between needin’ and wantin’ someone.” 

“I thought you weren’t listenin’ to him about that stuff.” Steve curled closer into Bucky, tucking his head in between Bucky’s neck and shoulder.

“Sometimes the man has a point. Just not as often as he thinks he does.” Steve softly chuckled and in the few minutes of silence that followed, it suddenly hit Bucky that he was exhausted. “Steve?”

“Mmpfh?”

“You fallin’ asleep there, honey?” Bucky could feel Steve shake his head. “You sure about that?” Steve muttered something into Bucky’s shoulder. “What was that?”

Steve lifted his head, eyes heavy, hair still slightly purple and mouth in a pout. “Can’t sleep yet. You haven’t kissed me. Or do you have more to say? Cause you can just talk and kiss me when you-”

“You little shit. C’mere.” Bucky turned his head and their lips met. It was a bit awkward, a bit too much teeth because Steve wouldn’t stop grinning and Bucky wondered why he ever worried because this, this was perfect. 

Even better was Steve’s face a few minutes later when Bucky pulled off his hoodie and he saw what Bucky had incorporated into the image over his left arm.

“That’s one of mine. How did you do that?”

“Stark modified the cloaking thing so I can change it. I got JARVIS to scan the image and got Maggie’s advice on how to make it look like a tattoo. I added the words. You like it?”

Steve looked at the image. Two boys were standing on the edge of a rooftop, silhouetted against a setting sun. The shadows of two men stretched out behind them, one holding a shield, the other a sniper rifle. Beneath it read ‘To the end of the line.’ “I love it. I love you.”

“I love you, too, Stevie.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! 
> 
> I had no idea when I woke up with a little story idea that it would turn into this. Thank you for all the comments and kudos; you have no idea how much they are appreciated.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> You can find me on tumblr as SpinningBear


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